


Another Saturday Night

by holdmeclosertinytaron



Category: British Actor RPF, British actor - Fandom, Taron Egerton - Fandom, Welsh Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 59,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdmeclosertinytaron/pseuds/holdmeclosertinytaron
Summary: Taron and Y/N have been friends since he moved to Aberystwyth as a child. But when the nation is put onto a lockdown to try and combat COVID-19, they have a decision to make.
Comments: 37
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

“From this evening I must give the British people a very simple instruction,” Boris Johnson spoke into the camera, his hands crossed on the table in front of him, “you must stay at home.” 

Taron stared at the TV that sat on the wall above the fireplace and refused to look elsewhere. You were sitting with your legs crossed on the sofa next to him with your eyes on him. From where you were, you could see his heart pounding in his chest, the material of his t-shirt shifting with each beat. It was weirdly calming, being able to see someone’s heart beating in their chest, knowing that they are living and with you. 

His right thumb rubbed circles onto the pad of his left index finger. It was an easy way to tell that he was nervous. He’d been the same for as long as you could remember. He didn’t know what the next three weeks--at the very least--would have in store for everyone. Sure, he’d already done what he’d been advised from the beginning and washed his hands regularly and stopped hanging out with his friends, but this was completely different. 

Without actually using the word, Boris Johnson had put the entirety of the UK on a lockdown to try and combat the effects of Covid-19 with no real information on what it would entail. During his speech he said that the measures would be in place for three weeks to start with but both you and Taron knew that it would be for far longer. For too many people still weren’t taking the situation seriously and continued to meet up with friends and family, potentially infecting thousands of other people. 

The only reason that Taron and yourself were together and not isolating was because your car broke a few months before and you hadn’t had the money to get a new one before that point. Taron offered to take you to Aber and promised you somewhere to stay while you isolated to make sure you hadn’t contracted anything. 

And you were thankful that you’d already decided to make the drive back to be closer to your families in Aberystwyth but you were worried because you weren’t actually with your families. You decided that holding up in Taron’s flat was best for a week before heading to your parent’s houses, not expecting to be put on lockdown.

Neither of you were sure what to do for the best. You were pretty sure that you would still be able to make it back to your family homes because you would be able to walk with your bags and not even need to touch the car. However, neither of you knew if you were a carrier of the virus and it would mean that you’d have to isolate on your own for a week even if you did go home. 

“Taron,” you spoke softly, your head tilted to the right so that you could look at him a little easier, “are you alright?” 

He stayed with his eyes glued to the TV even though he wasn’t paying attention to it. “It’s just all becoming real now isn’t it? Before it was just us washing our hands to keep safe but now? Now we’re on a nationwide lockdown and things are all a little up in the air.” 

Your lungs filled with air before expelling it with a loud sigh. You understood how he felt completely. There’d been times where you’d joked about how much you were washing your hands, obnoxiously singing for 20 seconds as you did. In fact, you’d turned it into a competition with Taron to see who could come up with the better song ideas. 

But now it was really real. Now you had to stay inside to protect not only yourself but everyone else who you would come in contact with. Now, you could only leave the house once a day for up to one hour to go for a walk. And you could only go to the shops for absolute essentials (which were hard to find with the amount of people who’d already bulk bought everything). No more could you nip into your mums for a cuppa while you’re home to catch up with her properly. 

It was all suddenly very, very real and you weren’t 100% sure how to process all of it. On the norm, you would definitely make a joke and play it off with sarcasm but that felt wrong. There was a dark cloud overhead that wouldn’t leave you alone despite your pleads for it to. It felt like your life was raining continuously around you almost as if it was winter despite it being the start of spring. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back, taking a deep breath and looking back to the TV where Boris was concluding his live statement. “What do you want to do about it all then?”

“What do you mean?” Taron asked sincerely, turning to look at you properly, his eyebrows furrowed deeply as he tried to understand what you were saying. 

You sighed quietly to yourself, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing for a second. In the space of thirty seconds your heart rate had increased and you could feel yourself dissociating from reality a little. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. When you felt a little more grounded and like you were back on earth, you straightened your neck and wet your lips a little with the very tip of your tongue.

“Do you want to go back to your mum’s house or were you planning on staying here?” You asked gently, fiddling with your hands in your lap while trying not to make eye contact with Taron. “Obviously I’ll go back to my dad’s house but I don’t want you to be here on your own either.” 

The fall of Taron’s shoulders was far too obvious for you to not look at him questioningly. You could just about make out the frown that made its way to his features as he took in what you were saying, his chest rising and falling dramatically with a large exhale. 

“Oh,” was all he managed to respond with, his eyes averting from the side of your head to anywhere else in the room that he could look. Even the books on the shelf were giving him more comfort than his own thoughts. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” You queried, shifting yourself so that you could attempt to get comfortable again. There was an indent of your body on the cushion below you from where you’d been sitting for so long that afternoon. You grabbed a pillow from between the two of you, tugging it from where it sat slightly behind Taron and holding it to your stomach--a way for you to hide without hiding. “I just assumed that you’d want to go back home to be with your mum and the girls.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

There were few things that you disliked about Taron. Hell, you were pretty sure that there was nothing you disliked about him. He’d been your best friend ever since he moved to Aberystwyth when you were younger and you’d spent most of your teenage years hanging out in the local park when it was empty staring at the sky. You told one another everything when you were together and started to feel like one entity. 

But, the one thing that you could never get on board with, and the thing that you’d berated him for on hundreds of occasions before, was his complete inability to speak his mind. Or at least, his inability to say the things that he really wanted to. It was like he couldn’t physically form the words that described how he truly felt but he’d been the same for as long as you could remember, always trying to hint at things rather than outright telling you how he felt. 

“Taron…” you warned, raising your eyebrows at him as he finally turned back to look at you. 

He looked so little sitting next to you on the sofa. But not little in size. No, in size he still looked strong and broad, able to protect you from anything that came your way. He looked little in age. Almost as if he was a timid seven-year-old scared to tell their mum that they needed a cuddle because they felt a little sad. His eyes were glassed over as he licked his lips and looked up at you. 

“It’s just,” he started, copying your previous actions of fiddling with his hands in his lap. “It’s just...well, I was thinking of maybe not going to my mum’s house.” 

“Riiiight,” you replied slowly, hoping that he would get the hint that you had absolutely no idea what the hell he was going on about. “Why not?” 

He averted his eyes, again, earning a sigh of annoyance from you. Of course you understood that he was feeling overwhelmed and that he was only trying to get his nerves in order but it was grating on you as it was only you and he knew that he could tell you anything at all with no judgement whatsoever. Out of everyone in the world, you were the last person who would ever judge him. And he knew that he shouldn’t be nervous. It wasn’t like you were going to tell him to fuck off and leave the flat. But it was the possibility of that happening that scared him most. 

Taron took a deep breath. “I just don’t want to put more on my mum, you know? She’s already got a full house with her, Steve, Rosie and Mari and I don’t know...maybe me being there too would prove too much. We’d be on each other’s toes all of the time.” 

“Taron,” you whispered, reaching over to squeeze his knee delicately, “you know that she wouldn’t mind in the slightest. She’s your mum and she would be insanely happy to have you home with her and you know it!” 

“I’m just going to stay here,” he spoke harshly, watching your eyes widen in surprise and your lips roll into your mouth to stop yourself from fighting back. You had no idea why his shift in demeanour made you want to cry but there you were, trying to hold back tears at his words. Of course, you understood that he was emotional and didn’t know what the hell to do but he should have known that you were both in the same boat. 

“I’m sorry,” he continued when he realised how he’d made you feel, his hand running down the length of his face as he breathed out dramatically. “God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you choked out, sniffing and turning your attention back to the TV with a sharp breath. “So, you’re staying here then?” 

“Yeah,” he responded quietly, watching you intently as you closed your eyes and swallowed the lump in your throat. “But I don’t want to be on my own.” 

You almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you turned to look at him again, your face very clearly showing how baffled you were. “Then why stay here, Taron? That makes zero sense.” 

“Bloody hell, Y/N. You’d think that after being my friend for so goddamn long you’d understand what I’m hinting at…” 

Part of you knew where he could potentially be going but you wanted him to spell it out for you. So you shrugged at him, waiting for him to tell you what he was getting at. But at the same time, you still didn’t truly know where he was going with it all. Despite being friends for so long, there were times when you genuinely didn’t know what was going on inside his head. That day was one of those days. 

“Do you want to stay here with me? Just the two of us.” His words were slow as he asked you, his eyes not leaving yours once. He needed to know that you heard what he said the first time. 

“Wh-are you kidding, T?” He shook his head at you, a smile trying to tug its way to his lips but he didn’t let it. “I don’t even know what to say. We don’t know how long this is going to go on for. What happens when we get sick of one another?” 

Then he let his lips turn up into a small smile, “When we get sick of one another? Does that mean you’ll stay?” 

Your lips grew dry as you sat in silence, unable to form words under his tender gaze. His green eyes bore into yours as he waited patiently--well, impatiently really--for your response. Even if you wanted to answer his question you couldn’t. For you were far too awestruck by his eyes. 

For some reason completely unbeknownst to you, his eyes got more beautiful the older he got. The green had started to speckle with light brown and there were slight hints of blue and yellow around his pupils. It didn’t help that his gaze was always strong, like he was looking directly into your soul every time he looked at you. Enchanting isn’t even a word you could use to describe his eyes. It wasn’t strong enough. But no other word ever would be strong enough. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he thought you were the only other person in the world besides him whenever he looked at you. It didn’t matter where you were, or how pissed off with one another you were, if he looked at you he was looking at you. Nothing ever distracted him. 

“Earth to Y/N,” he laughed as he waved his hand in front of your face. 

You blinked back to reality, gulping and wetting your lips again. “Huh?” 

“I asked if that means you’ll stay here with me.” 

****** 

It still didn’t feel real, as you lay in bed that night staring at the ceiling. It didn’t feel real that you were living in a new normal. For weeks you hadn’t wanted to leave the house but now that you couldn’t, all you wanted to do was walk around a shopping centre, go out to eat at a restaurant, go or coffee with your friends...anything. The last thing you wanted to do was be stuck in the house. 

Though it wasn’t all bad. You were lucky that you were able to spend the time with a close friend and that you weren’t entirely on your own like you risked being had you been back in London. Your flat was small and stuffy and you knew for a fact that you’d be pulling your hair out by hour two of lockdown. Taron’s flat in Aber was bigger, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms (one of which being his ensuite), a kitchen/diner and a spacious living room. 

And unlike your flat, Taron’s had plenty for you to do. If you got bored of watching the TV there were books galore and if you got bored of books there was the Wii that he’d stuffed in the storage cupboard in the spare bedroom. And if you got bored of bowling and Mario Kart, you could play board games or card games. There was always something to do and you knew for a fact that you would find it difficult to get bored. 

Well, unless lockdown continued for the rest of the year. At that point you might get bored at some point. You were lucky in the fact that you could go for one walk a day if you desired and being by the sea meant that you could walk along the seafront and bask in the sea air. London was perfect for your lifestyle but you didn’t half miss the salty, breezy air of Aberystwyth when you were gone. 

Taron did too. He’d admitted on numerous occasions that he often said he was going home to see his family when in reality he just wanted to feel the breeze on his face. There’d been times when you’d both gone home at the same time and forgotten that you didn’t live there anymore. You seemed to slip so perfectly back into the country girl you were when you were back. 

Whenever you were home, you got more comments on how you looked healthy and glowy than when you were in London. Of course, you knew that it was probably because the air quality was different and you always seemed to eat better when you were home--thanks to eating homemade meals rather than takeaways. But this time was different. You weren’t home for a holiday. You were home to isolate from the virus. 

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when you’d fallen asleep, but when your eyes peeled open at 3:47 you knew you hadn’t been asleep very long. Every part of your body screamed at you to go back to sleep but you couldn’t. Rather than succumbing to sleep, you threw the covers away from your body and climbed out from the comfort of the spare bed. Though really, Taron should just call it your room with how often you stayed there. 

The flat was silent--obviously--as you opened the bedroom door and paused to make sure that you hadn’t woken Taron up with the creaky door. When you were sure that he was still sleeping soundly in the room adjacent, you stepped out of the bedroom completely and pulled the door shut, holding your phone tightly in your hand. 

If you thought the bedroom door was loud, the floorboards on the corridor leading to the kitchen were even worse. You cringed with each step you took until you were in the safety of the kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that if Taron stayed asleep with the floorboards and the bedroom door, he would for sure sleep through a boiling kettle which had you sighing in relief. The only thing you wanted at that moment was a hot cuppa tea. 

The mug cupboard had been filled mainly by you. If you saw a cute mug in a shop you would buy it, no questions asked. But it got to the point where you couldn’t house them all in your flat so you slowly moved them to Taron’s house. Your favourite one, though, was the one you’d bought from Etsy as a joke birthday gift for him the year before last. 

It wasn’t a fancy shape or a fancy material in the slightest. But it did have Taron’s face all over it. The look on his face when he unwrapped it will be etched into your brain for the rest of your life. The furrow of his brows when he first saw it, to the smirk making its way to his lips before he was throwing his head back in fits of laughter. For weeks it’d been the only mug he’d used for any of his drinks...cold, hot, alcoholic or nonalcoholic. He loved it so much and would always smile whenever he saw it. 

You grabbed it from the cupboard once you’d switched the kettle on to boil the water, grabbing the tea and sugar canisters and a spoon from the drawer by your hips. The only light in the room came from the glow from the living room. You’d switched on the lamp on your way through to the kitchen so that you weren’t blinded by the bright lights of the room. 

As soon as your tea was ready, you cradled the mug and walked into the living room where you decided to sit for a while. It was either curling on the sofa unable to sleep but able to watch TV or laying in bed unable to sleep but being bored shitless. Naturally, you chose the first option. At least that way you were able to turn on the TV and have something to keep you occupied for a while. 

As per usual at four am, there was nothing at all worth watching so you wound up watching New Girl. You weren’t even sure what was happening but it was far better than sitting in silence. And in all fairness, you were far too enthralled in your phone to care about what was playing in front of you. To say it was the middle of the night, there were plenty of Instagram stories to keep you entertained for a while. 

It didn’t take long before you were pulling the knitted blanket from the back of the sofa to wrap around your body. The living room was slightly chilly but you didn’t want to mess with the heat in case Taron was already warm in his room. So the blanket would have to suffice. Not that you were bothered, you enjoyed curling up on the sofa wrapped in a blanket with your phone and a cup of tea. 

The blanket smelt of Taron. Every fibre of it envelops you in the most comforting scent you could ever think of. You would never admit it to anybody but Taron’s smell was your favourite; musky but sweet all at the same time. For as long as you could remember, Taron’s smell was like a warm hug, inviting you in and pulling you to the very depths of comfort. 

Whenever you felt low or like you were struggling one way or another, a single hug from Taron could make you feel better. Sure, it didn’t erase all of your negative feelings entirely but it helped. And he knew that it helped. On some days you were sure that he knew you needed a hug more than you yourself did. Multiple times he’d turned up on your doorstep to wrap his arms around you. 

You’d told him on many different occasions that he was your safe space. Taron always nudged your shoulder playfully and told you to stop being so daft even though he secretly loved it. He loved knowing that he was able to make you feel so safe and protected. He loved being your shoulder to cry on. It made him stronger, in some ways, knowing that you relied on him in certain ways. 

****** 

Your eyes fluttered open slowly until they were as open as they could be. They couldn’t open fully with the bright light cascading in from between the curtains. In his mad rush to get himself to his bedroom, Taron forgot to make sure that they were closed fully and that wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for you falling asleep in the living room. 

You groaned loudly as you rubbed your eyes to try and get rid of the sleep that had built up in your inner corners during the few hours that you managed to sleep. Taron scared you ever so slightly when you saw that he was kneeling in front of you with one hand on the sofa by your head. The angle of his arm made his bicep bulge in the grey top he’d thrown on before leaving his bedroom. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he chuckled lightly when you looked at him with a sleepy smile. “Sleep well out here?” 

You groaned again, moving awkwardly as you tried to stretch your back. “I could have slept better,” you replied honestly. “Came out here at whatever time it was because I couldn’t sleep for the life of me. My brain wouldn’t shut up.” 

Taron’s shoulders dropped at your admission. He didn’t know why but a large part of him felt as though your struggle to sleep was his own fault. He spent all evening going on about the lockdown and how he wondered what was going to happen and how some people were going to get through it. His words got him into his own head so he could only imagine how they must have affected you. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on like I did yesterday about everything going on. I wasn’t thinking about it and-” 

“Taron, don’t fret. It’s okay,” you whispered, reaching over to hold his hand in yours lightly. “My dad texted me before going to bed and I couldn’t decide how to tell him that I’m staying here. I know he won’t mind because I’m not in London but at the same time he’s going to question why I’m not going to his house. Or even my mum’s.” 

“I’m going to take it that you didn’t know how to respond to him?” Taron asked quietly, looking at you wholly and taking in how you felt simply by looking into your eyes. 

You nodded, “Yeah. I just felt like answering him there and then I wouldn’t have been able to sleep with a conversation going and I just...I don’t even know.” 

Taron nodded knowingly. “Maybe you could facetime him? Rather than trying to tell him through text and because you can’t see him face to face in a way. You could even do it now before we get breakfast?”

You smiled sweetly as you sat yourself up on the sofa, stretching your neck to try and get rid of the pain in it. Taron’s sofa was comfortable but it definitely didn’t do anything for your neck when you fell asleep on it without a proper pillow. As soon as you were sitting up properly--still with the blanket wrapped tightly around your body--Taron twisted to grab the cup of tea he’d made for you from the table to pass over.

“Oh, you’re an actual superstar!” You exclaimed happily as you took it from him, letting the insane heat from the mug permeate your hands and run through your entire body. Taron clearly put the heating on when he woke up but you were still slightly chilly in the living room so the cuppa was definitely welcomed. “Thank you.” 

“You are more than welcome, love. How about we facetime your dad now? I’ll stay with you to help if that’s what you’d prefer?” 

“You know,” you whispered after taking a long sip of your cuppa, “that would be lovely, thank you. I feel like maybe having you there would make it a little easier to get through to him?” 

He chuckled at you, knowing where you were going. Ever since he first met your dad, he’d been able to get into his good graces without trying. “I’ll be here when you tell him, don’t worry. And then when we’ve ended the call I bought a giant box of Coco Pops from Asda before coming back so we can eat them for breakfast.” 

******

A look of worry washed over your dad’s face as he watched you through the phone screen. You’d propped it up against a couple of books on the coffee table and both Taron and yourself were sitting cross-legged on the floor with your hot drinks. You tried your best not to laugh when you saw him pull his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he eyed you. 

“And you’re sure this is a good idea?” He asked with his eyebrow cocked. 

“Dad, you know Taron. You know that I’m safe and that I’m back in Aber so I don’t see what the big deal is,” you spoke seriously, feeling Taron’s hand squeeze your thigh strongly to keep you calm. A rush of tingles built in the area where he touched, your skin pricking with heat at the feel of having him so physically close to you. His leg was flush against yours, his pulse beating against your bare skin. 

“I am 100% positive that this is a good idea,” you continued. “If we hadn’t decided to come back to Aber when we did, we’d have been stuck in London together, because we would have been in the same flat. This is the same as being together there and you know and trust Taron.” 

“Hmm, I know I do, it's just…” 

“Just what, dad?” You challenged, waiting to hear him try and backtrack what he’d said which would inevitably end in you laughing. “Tell me what it is, I’m begging you.” 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, looking you dead in the eye, “It’s just that I don’t want you getting knocked up during this quarantine. I know that everyone’s going to be bored shitless and as much as I love you, I’m not ready for any grandbabies just yet.” 

“DAD!” You screeched, taken back by his choice of words. Taron’ eyes widened visibly through the phone screen and his hand let go of your leg entirely. “How many times do I have to tell you that Taron and I are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. I promise and assure you that you’re not getting any grandbabies out of this quarantine.” 

“As long as you’re sure,” he teased, showing you that he was only joking about being protective the entire time. “Taron, I trust that you won’t get my daughter pregnant but if you do...there’ll be hell to pay.” 

“Yes sir,” Taron laughed. “How are you doing, Dominic?” 

“I’m good, thank you. I mean it though, no knocking my daughter up this quarantine or there’ll be words.” 

“Yeah, okay, bye dad. Love you!” You spoke quickly, waiting to hear him say he loves you too before hanging up the phone and falling backwards onto the sofa. “I swear he makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes. ‘Don’t knock up my daughter, I don’t want any grandbabies’. Come on dad!” 

Taron laughed from where he sat next to you, his hand lifting in the air to land on your thigh with a slap. “You know he’s only messing. He’s done the same since we were teenagers.” 

“I guess. Doesn’t make it any less annoying though.” 

“You never know,” Taron chuckled. “Might have to knock you up just to see if he’ll stick to his word.” 

“TARON!” 

******

The day had been pretty average, both you and Taron doing your own little thing. While Taron spent the majority of the day reading in the armchair near the far window, you’d propped your laptop up on your knees and had been attempting to write something. The record player that sat on the bookshelf by the corner had played the soft melodies of Frank Sinatra earlier in the day but neither nor Taron could be bothered to change the vinyl to something else. 

So instead you’d stuck to getting Alexa to play random 70s rock, the two of you singing along when one of your favourite songs came on. When Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton started to play, you found yourself getting a little teary eyed, the memories of first hearing the song filling your head and making you smile. That one song was enough to ease you into writing something again. 

You weren’t necessarily writing anything in particular but you wanted to write something at least. Whether that turned into a poem that you would no doubt hoard for yourself until the day it was discovered--if it ever was--, or a story. With the song that was playing so gently into the room around you, the sound waves twirling and weaving between the furniture to reach your ears, you found yourself typing. 

Words poured from your fingertips as they tapped on the keyboard of your laptop, descriptions of the feelings deep within yourself. It made a nice change to be able to sit and write without any inhibitions. To feel your mind freeing itself of all restraints enough for you to write down what you really wanted to say. For months you had struggled to get yourself motivated enough to write anything worth sharing but there you were, in the same place you’d been all day, with a cold cup of tea by your side and your laptop finding it difficult to keep up with your typing. 

Of course, you worried that your typing would annoy Taron too much where he tried to concentrate on his book but after a short glance up at him where you found his glasses perched delicately on the end of his nose and his eyes still glued to the words of Murakami, you knew you were good. So you continued to type, piecing words and phrases together until you couldn’t piece them any more.

As you looked up at Taron once more, you took him in properly. The lines in his forehead as he concentrated on the book in front of him, the pout on his lips as he perused the words, the furrow of his eyebrows and the almost unnoticeable twitching of his nose when he sniffled. Outside the sun had started to set and the blinds that were covering the windows at the back of the flat casted beautiful golden lines onto his face and body. Golden hues that highlighted the best parts of him. 

As you sat and took him in, not really caring if he looked up at you, your fingers started to dance over the keys of your keyboard once more, writing things that you couldn’t quite comprehend. All you knew was that the words you were typing were the embodiment of the sunset that casted its light so beautifully onto Taron. 

“Don’t think I can’t see you staring,” Taron smirked without looking up from his book. “Have I got something on my face or something?”

You cleared your throat quietly, letting your fingers fall from the laptop so that you could reach to your right to get your cup of tea, turning your nose up when you realised how cold it had gotten. Though you sipped it anyway. 

“No, you’ve not got anything on your face.” 

“Then you’re just admiring my beauty, yeah?” He joked. The guffaw that left you had him turning around in his set, the blanket falling from his lap into a puddle on the floor. “No need to pretend that I’m not the hottest man alive, Y/N.” 

Taron placed the bookmark he’d found hiding in the bottom of a drawer into his book before closing it and putting it on the small table next to him. His movements were slow, like he was still in that period of time between closing a book and being back in reality completely, but he moved nonetheless. He stretched as he stood up, a yawn escaping him at the same time. 

“I’m hungry,” he announced, walking to the kitchen and hoping that you would follow closely behind him. Which you did. 

You moved your laptop to your side and stood up from the sofa, grabbing your mug--and Taron’s--on your way to the kitchen, in desperate need of another tea fix. Taron was already rummaging through various different cupboards when you got to him so you leaned against the doorframe and watched him move freely around the room to try and find something that he wanted to eat. 

“I’m going to have to try and get one of those face masks or make one or something,” he uttered to himself. “Barely got any food to cook. Or nothing that will cook quickly.” 

He spun around to face you, a sickly sweet grin plastered on his face as he walked over to where you stood so that he could take the mugs from your grasp and place them on the countertop. His hands then found yours, holding them softly as he looked into your eyes hoping that you would know what he was going to say next. 

“Chinese or pizza?” You asked through an eye roll, earning a cheer from Taron as he let go of your hands to close the cupboards he’d left open and fill the kettle for a cuppa. “But you know there’s only one correct answer here.”

“You remember China Kitchen?” He asked with his back to you, waiting for you to hum a response. “They do these boxes now apparently and they come with chicken balls, salt and pepper chicken, chips, mini spring rolls, the sauce and then you get prawn crackers as a side dish too. We could order one of those to share and put a film on?” 

China Kitchen had been your go to chinese takeaway since you were a child. Both of your parents raved about their food. After their divorce they only agreed on two things: that they would do everything in their power to work together to raise you and that China Kitchen was the only place to ever get chinese. So it was drilled into you from two sides for years and years. 

“That sounds heavenly,” you replied, your mouth drooling at the thought of eating chinese food. “We should order a bottle of Dr Pepper too!” 

Taron chuckled from where he stood preparing the drinks, his head nodding at your words. “I agree. It’s on me, by the way.” 

“Taron no!” You exclaimed, walking over to him so you could stand by his side and raise your eyebrows at him. “I’m more than capable of paying for food.” 

“I know you are,” he smiled, “but this is my treat. You can get the next one.” 

You had to agree with his reasoning so you nodded your head, leaning forward to kiss his cheek delicately. The stubble that was growing tickled your lips as they pressed into his skin. So much so that when you pulled away, the tips of your fingers found their way to your lips where you could still feel the soft prickle of the hair. 

“It’s a deal. I think I’m gonna put something comfortable on before we order.” 

“I’ll do the same too. Once I’ve finished these cuppas I’ll go pop something on. My phone’s on the coffee table, if I’m still getting changed you can order the food.” 

****** 

An obscene amount of Chinese food and one too many glasses of Dr Pepper later, you were laid out on the sofa with your legs draped over Taron’s thighs, his hand rubbing at them over your sweats. His hand was warming your leg up with the friction and you sighed in contentedness as you let your eyes fall closed for a second. 

Taron spent the majority of the time you spent waiting for the food to arrive scrolling through Netflix trying to find a film and ended up choosing one you’d both seen a million times before. But you didn’t mind. The familiarity of Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle was welcomed thoroughly as you pigged out and ultimately made yourself feel sick. 

It was still only eight in the evening so far too early to head to bed even though you were positively exhausted from not sleeping well the night before. But you knew that if you were to go to bed then, you would wake up stupidly early the following day and feel even worse for it. So you were soldiering on and trying to stay awake for as long as possible. The only good thing was that Taron was also struggling to stay awake, his head falling forward on his neck before lifting dramatically as he woke himself back up. 

“You know,” you whispered, leaning to the left to stretch your back before repeating the movement to the right, “we could always get Mario Kart up to keep us awake for a bit longer? Even if it’s just another hour.” 

Taron looked at you with a small smile, “You know, I think that’s a pretty good idea. I’ll go get the Wii and we can be old school or whatever it is the kids are saying these days.” 

You giggled at him, swinging your legs off of his and to the right so that you could rest your feet on the floor. After spending almost an hour laying down, you needed to stretch properly. So you took Taron being out of the room as an opportunity. You stretched as best as you could with feeling so full before crossing your legs under you as you sat back on the sofa. 

It didn’t take Taron too long to find the Wii and it took him even less time to set it up. “Are you a controller on it’s own, a steering wheel or a nunchuck kinda gal?” He asked before standing up to sit on the sofa. 

“I’ll take the nunchuck, please,” you smiled back at him, reaching your hands out to take them from his grasp when he got to you. “Thank you. Now, Mr Egerton, get ready to be trounced!”


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was warm against your cheeks and comforting in a way that no person ever really knew how to comfort you. It warmed you thoroughly as you basked in the light rays that travelled lightyears to caress the delicacy of your cheeks. The heat reminded you of summer where the sky was always blue and you didn’t need to lug your coat around with you all day. It reminded you of family barbecues in the back garden with a few cold alcoholic beverages and music playing while you laughed and chatted with everybody. It reminded you of what you’d started to call the ‘good old days’. 

Because that’s what you had branded them as. The good old days. The days when you could wake up and leave the house without being worried about how close to other people you were getting, or how often you had to talk to the bathroom to wash your hands. The days when you could wander around the supermarket with no real motive, or when you could walk to the park and relax under a tree for hours on end, or when you could sit on the beach and watch children play together despite them being strangers only minutes prior. The days when you could go anywhere and do anything that your heart desired without feeling like you were breaking the rules. They felt like the days you would reminisce on in years to come. 

Except you’d started reminiscing on them a lot sooner than you’d first planned. Each day you woke up and stood with the balcony doors open wishing that you could be outside getting coffee from Starbucks or Café Nero. Hell, even Costa would be good. You dreamed of texting one of your friends asking if they wanted to go for lunch at your favourite joint in London before heading for a good shopping trip. You dreamed of hugging somebody close and you dreamed of feeling like the world was back to normal. 

Whatever normal was anymore. Looking through your camera roll you came across hundreds of photos from gigs and random trips out when you were with your friends and it felt like you’d been breaking the law. You’d already forgotten what it felt like to be with your friends and laugh at the most stupid thing--like when you tripped up over thin air and fell to the floor yet still managed to keep every single drop of coffee in your cup-- and eat in a restaurant without any worry. 

Things that you’d done not even a month before felt taboo and like you shouldn’t even think about them. Lunches in central after a morning shift felt like a lifetime ago, dinners with a large group of friends felt like a millennium ago and day trips felt like they’d never happened. Things that once brought you so much joy and happiness now felt like the worst things that could ever happen. The sheer thought of doing something that you once loved sent shivers tingling down the length of your spine. 

Had someone asked you, you wouldn’t be able to tell them that the first two weeks of lockdown had been hard. Because they’d been a lot easier than you had expected. By some miracle, you’d managed to keep yourself entertained with writing and reading whatever books you could find on Taron’s bookshelf. You’d baked a bucket load of banana bread--just like every influencer on Instagram--and even bought yourself a puzzle to do to keep yourself busy. You weren’t working due to your company closing so that workers weren’t having to be around others and being back in Aberystwyth almost felt like you were on holiday. 

But you weren’t on holiday and that soon caught up with you. As soon as your eyes opened on a morning you groaned and pushed a pillow into your face, letting out all of your frustrations as quietly as you could. Your morning coffee seemed to be more of a chore than anything else and you were slowly running out of ideas as to what to cook for dinner. The days seemed to blend into one long day with time becoming nothing but a social construct put together by the government in hopes of keeping people in a routine. 

Not that you were in any form of routine while in lockdown. You were waking up whenever your body woke you up which in some ways was nice because you never usually got that luxury but at the same time it felt like you were wasting half of your day and that’s not what you like. Lunch was consumed for breakfast and there was more caffeine in your system than there ever had been. Which was saying a lot with how much you drank while completing your degree. Yoga leggings and joggers became your most worn item and your bras probably thought that you’d abandoned them with how little they were pulled from the top drawer. 

You were thankful that you were an overpacker for it meant that you had more underwear than you probably should have had when you thought the trip was going to be a couple of weeks. However, you’d called your mum a couple of days into the lockdown and asked if she could possibly fill a backpack from your old room with whatever clothes she had at her house so that you could collect them (from the required two meters away, of course). 

And your mum being your mum had washed not only the clothes she was packing for you but also the backpack and when she was packing, she wore gloves so she wasn’t physically touching the items. You’d chuckled at her but thanked her anyway, missing how protective she could be over you. Taron and yourself picked them up on your daily walk, calling your mum to let her know that you were there and waiting at the end of the garden path for her to put the bag outside for you. 

All you’d wanted to do was walk over to her and hug her close but you knew that you couldn’t. And you weren’t daft enough to ignore all the rules just for a hug, even though it was tempting. You stood and talked for a while until the sun started to set and you needed to head back to the flat--where she’d made you promise you would rewash the clothes just to be safe. 

With one last “I love you” and a wave to her, you were on your way back, holding back tears and trying not to let Taron know how you felt. But he knew so he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and held you into his side awkwardly for a lot of your walf, laughing when you almost tripped up over his foot. 

“You’re a dickhead,” you’d uttered, smiling up at him as he finally let go of your body. 

His shoulders lifted and dropped in a shrug but his lips held a playful smirk as he nudged your side dreamily and continued to walk with you, knowing that he didn’t need to try and defend himself for you yourself were only joking. 

As you stood in the queue to get into Tesco as you’d offered to do the first shop of lockdown, with your feet behind the white line indicating that you were two metres away from the person in front, you chatted to the slightly older lady who was in fact in front of you. You’d been in dire need of any form of human interaction that wasn’t Taron. Not that he was a bad form of human interaction. It was just that only being able to talk to him in person was starting to take its toll. 

“It’s the perfect weather for a barbecue, isn’t it?” The woman asked you with a smile. Her voice was chirpy and you smiled at her strong Welsh accent. Growing up you’d had an accent but after years in London, it only came out when you were home and around everybody for long periods of time. 

You hummed, “It really is. If I wasn’t in a flat for the duration I would suggest to the person I’m staying with that we have one.” 

Taron was loved throughout the town but it still felt strange to namedrop him when you were in public so you tried your best not to. On occasion it was impossible not to but when you could, you kept his name out of conversation. 

“I couldn’t cope in a flat, if truth be told,” the woman replied. “The kids are already driving me crazy and it’s only been four days.” 

You could imagine how hard it was for children to understand the situation and how much their parents wanted to pull their hair out. “I’m glad that I don’t have any kids to look after right now. But then again, I might as well be looking after a child with the way the guy I’m staying with can get.” 

“Men...who’d have them?” 

“Exactly,” you chuckled, walking forward with everybody else until you couldn’t walk any further. “I know I shouldn’t complain because there are people wearing them for a lot longer than this but this mask is so bloody warm.” 

The woman nodded in understanding, shifting her own mask on her face so that it was a little more comfortable. “Tell me about it,” she said, “I only put mine on before I got out of my car but I feel like I’m sweating buckets. All year long we have shitty weather and then because we’re all stuck inside it’s hotter than the Sahara out here!” 

An older gentleman stood at the side of you in the other line started chuckling at that. “I told the wife this would happen,” he laughed. “As soon as we were put on a lockdown I turned to her and I said “Bet you anything the weather will be beautiful now that we’re all staying inside.” 

“It’s so typical,” you replied as you started to move forward once more. To say that the line was long when you got there, it was going down quick enough which you were thankful for because the sun had gone from being a comforting warmth to an awful heat that made you want to jump into a pool with a margarita waiting for you under a parasol. “I wish I had a garden that I could sit out in. The best I can do is open the balcony doors.” 

“Are you from around here?” The older gentleman asked. “You don’t sound very Welsh.” 

You breathed a chuckle but nodded at him. “I am. Grew up right here in Aber with my parents. Moved to London when I was 18 for uni though. Give it a few weeks and I’ll be as Welsh as they come.” 

That had both the woman and the man laughing.

“I see,” he replied with a slow nod of the head. “What did you study? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 

“I don’t mind. I studied Business Management at King’s College.” 

“And are you doing anything to do with that now or?” 

You nodded once more, wetting your lips under your mask. “I work in marketing for a company in London.” 

Before you could get a reply, it was your turn to go into the shop and you were both happy because it meant that you could get what you needed and head home but slightly sad because it meant that you wouldn’t get to have a conversation like that again for a while. You’d never seen Tesco so empty but it made for a nice change because it meant that you could walk around freely without bumping into anyone. 

****** 

Taking that first step back into the flat and closing the door behind you felt like pure heaven. The air outside felt strangely heavy and made you feel unnerved. It made your chest tighten and your head feel light as you walked from the shop to the flat. But not light in a good way. It made you feel as though you could throw up at any given second and as though you were ill. It felt wrong to be outside in the open when things felt so uneasy. 

You trudged through to the kitchen where Taron waited with a cup of tea for you. A bottle of antibacterial spray sat on the worktop ready to clean all of the items that he could. You let the bags fall to the floor but kept one on you for it didn’t hold items for the kitchen. Before you’d left for the shop, both Taron and yourself decided that you wanted to be as safe as you could be no matter what and so you would disinfect anything that you could once it was brought into the house. For things that couldn’t be disinfected, you’d opted to put them in different storage. 

“I’ll sort these out,” he smiled as he grabbed the bottle and reached his hand into the first bag. “I know you said you were going to change your clothes or whatever. This tea’s gone cold so I’ll make you a fresh one.” 

You smiled at him, “thank you, lovely. I’ll go get changed and put these clothes in the wash. I’ll not be too long though.” 

Heading through to the bathroom, you grabbed the bag you’d not given to Taron and popped it just inside your bedroom. The bathroom was cold as you turned the shower on and stripped out of your clothes, putting your music on shuffle so that you weren’t showering in silence. You hadn’t planned on having a shower when you first got in but you were in desperate need of the relaxation the hot water cascading through your hair and down your back gave. 

As soon as the water was steaming, you climbed in and let the water caress your skin. The pressure of the water kneaded out the knots that had built in your back from being tense while out and about and you were so thankful. You could feel every knot detangle and smooth out at the water thumped against it softly. 

Sam Cookes’ Another Saturday Night echoed throughout the room, your hips swaying in time to the beat as you closed your head and leaned back enough that the water could fall straight down over you. It was one of your favourite songs and was an easy way to get you smiling when you didn’t want to smile. 

The shower helped you more than you thought it would. To have the water-which was almost to the point of scalding with how hot you had it-falling down the length of your body until it reached the floor beneath you left you sighing in relief. Sure, a candle lit bubble bath helped to ease the tension of a stressful day but nothing beat a hot shower with your favourite music playing. 

The steam in the room helped the scent of the watermelon and honeysuckle shower gel fill the room completely. It was a fresh and crisp scent but still felt sweet and gentle, your eyes falling closed at the immense relaxation it brought. You rubbed the gel into your body, washing away your troubles as well as anything that needed washing off. 

When you rinsed yourself off, you weren’t quite ready to get out of the shower yet so you leaned back against the white tiled wall. Though you gasped when your back hit it. It was insanely cold in comparison to the hot water that cascaded down your legs still. But the contrast was much appreciated. It helped pull you back into reality and realise that you probably shouldn’t take the shower head off of the wall like you wanted to, even though it was really, really tempting. But you didn’t want Taron to be putting the shopping away all on his own. 

You half-assed washing your hair, not really giving a crap about double shampooing like you normally did. However, you did pay attention to how you were applying the conditioner. That was something you would never half-ass. Once you were satisfied, you stepped out from the hot stream of water and moved quickly to wrap the fluffy white towel around your body to try and keep some heat in. 

There was no way that Taron would be around to see you run from the bathroom to your bedroom in just a towel so you went for it, grabbing your phone and legging it across the hallway. Wanting to get dressed quickly to stop yourself from getting too cold, you grabbed a pair of clean underwear, your black joggers and one of Taron’s t-shirts you’d stolen years before out of the drawer to wear. It felt good to wear joggers rather than joggers, your legs thanking you for being able to breathe properly rather than being suffocated in denim. 

“I can’t lie,” you uttered as you walked through to the kitchen to put your clothes in the washing machine, “I didn’t realise how weird it would feel to go outside. I think I like being cooped in the flat more than I first thought.” 

Taron chuckled from where he stood putting some beans in the cupboard but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what you were wearing. “Where did you find that top?” 

“Uhhh,” you looked down at it before smiling at him sweetly. “In my wardrobe…” 

“And by your wardrobe do you mean you stole it from me three years ago thinking I had no idea and let me look for it everywhere I went because I loved it so much?” He teased, winking at you when you slumped your shoulders. “It looks better on you than it ever looked on me so I really don’t mind. Not in the slightest.” 

Your stomach clenched at his words and you were sure that he checked you out as you walked through to the other side of the kitchen to help him put the last few bits away. 

“Thank you, for doing the shopping, by the way,” he spoke strongly. “But you know I would have gone if you’d have asked.” 

“Don’t fret, it’s all good,” you smiled at him, putting the jar of flour and chocolate chips in the cupboard above your head before shutting it and grabbing your fresh cup of tea. “I’ll do the shopping every time we need things, if it makes life any easier.”

“You will not,” he insisted, turning around to you with a stern face. “I’m perfectly capable of going to Tesco on my own.” 

“I never said you weren’t,” you laughed, putting the tea down to drag the towel your hair was wrapped in off of your head so that it could dry. “But I really don’t mind going to the shops whenever we need them.” 

Taron knew that he wasn’t going to win so he let the subject drop, instead ushering you into the living room. You followed behind him happily, picking the shopping bag you’d left by the door up again to take to him. He was already comfy in his chair when you walked in, remote in hand ready to choose something to watch for a couple of hours before dinner. 

“Wha-what’s all this?” He asked when you plonked the bag on his knee. 

You simply shrugged your shoulders, plopping down on the sofa opposite him with your legs tucked under you. A coy smile made its way to your lips as you watched him intently. He didn’t reach into the bag straight away, far too busy eyeing you suspiciously to bother. When he did reach in, you could see his eyebrows furrow deep in his forehead as he tried to figure out what he was touching before pulling it out of the bag. 

“Seriously, Y/N, what’s all this?” 

“Just some bits to say thank you. For letting me stay here with you.” 

He cocked his head to the side and blinked slowly at you. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, don’t I?” 

“I love you too,” you smiled. “Now stop being a wuss and look at what I got for you!” 

The first thing he pulled out of the bag was the book you’d found and couldn’t leave on the shelf. And you could see his face as he took the gift in. A book that he’d wanted for a while but hadn’t bought because he refused to pay delivery on it. He’d only mentioned the book once but as soon as you saw it in Tesco, you couldn’t not pick it up and put it in the trolley. 

“Y/N! You didn’t have to!” 

“I saw it on the shelf and couldn’t not get it for you!” You insisted. “It was there all on its lonesome and you know how I get.” 

Taron smiled at you widely before putting it on the arm of the chair and digging his hand back into the bag. His features shifted as he pulled out the next item, a box of Lindt chocolates--the original, his favourite. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, looking up at you in awe. “I haven’t had these in so long.” 

“And I thought you deserved to be treated. There’s something else in there for you too.” 

“I can’t believe you,” he chuckled when he pulled out the black joggers. “How did you know?” 

“You keep complaining about the ones you’re wearing now. They’re broken and you were in desperate need of more.” 

He balanced everything on the arm of the chair the best he could before sauntering over to your and falling onto the sofa, his weight unexpected but so welcomed as he hugged you tight. He smelled good, just like always, and his skin was soft against your own. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel the puffs of air against your cupid’s bow. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your cheek, holding you tightly by the waist as he lay on top of you. Even through two layers of clothing, you could feel the heat radiating ten fold from his body, warming the deepest parts of your body. And he smelled so good. So, so good. “You really did not have to go out of your way to do that for me.” 

“I wanted to, T,” you mumbled against his cheek, letting your hands run up and down his back softly. “You don’t treat yourself enough and I know that you’ve wanted the book for a long while.” 

You could feel his tummy shift as he chuckled at you. He knew that you were right and that he really did need to start treating himself a little more. But he also knew that he would much prefer to spend his money on those that he loved. As long as they were happy and looked after, he was happy. And that went to you too. If you were happy and well, he was too. 

“You’re the best.” 

****** 

“Dinner’s ready!” Taron called from the kitchen, his voice echoing throughout the corridor until it reached your room. 

“I’m on my way!” You shouted back, pulling your hair up into a ponytail so that it was out of your face and double checking that you’d rubbed in all of your moisturise. 

While Taron cooked dinner for the two of you, you’d headed to your bedroom to dry your hair and put some moisturiser on. It had taken you a lot longer than you’d originally planned but it was nice to spend the time on yourself. After watching a couple of episodes of Life on Mars, you were both feeling peckish and Taron offered to make dinner since you’d been to the shop and spoiled him rotten. 

And you would have offered to help but he gave you the look that told you not to bother even thinking about it. So you smiled and thanked him before heading to your bedroom. You’d heard him listening to music as he cooked whatever he was making you, his voice harmonising with the music perfectly when he decided to sing along. 

Taron’s voice was like a lullaby to you. Even when he wasn’t thinking about what he was singing, he sounded like an angel sent down from heaven. It didn’t matter if he sang The Strokes while driving with his hand tapping the steering wheel in time with the drum beats or if he sang David Bowie while pottering around the kitchen, he sounded perfect. His music style had shifted over the years but there were parts of it that never changed. 

He was already at the dining table when you walked through, the french doors open wide and the pinks and purples from the sunset cascading over everything. As if on queue, you felt your stomach grumble when you saw the mass of food Taron had prepared for the both of you. A salad sat in the middle of the table with a plate of homemade tacos at each place. 

“Tacos alright?” He asked, voice laced with anticipation. 

Your frantic nod was enough for him as his lips quirked into a large smile that lit up the whole room. There was something so magical about his smile. It didn’t matter how bad of a mood you were in or how much of a bad day you’d had, a single smile from your best friend was enough to change your whole day. And there were photos on your phone of him smiling so if you were having a bad day but didn’t want to bother him, you could look at those and they helped. 

“Tacos are perfect,” You whispered gently as you sat on your seat and took a deep breath. You pulled the sea air deep into your lungs and released it with a silent breath. “Thank you, Taron. This is so lovely.” 

“Don’t mention it. I’d love to say that I was inspired but the ingredients were about to be no good to eat and what better way to use them all than by making tacos?” 

A soft laugh left you as you folded your soft taco in half and bit into it, the sweet chilli sauce you’d added dripping down your chin. Taron shook his head at you, handing you a napkin from where he sat before he dug into his own food. You fell into a silence as you ate your food. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence as Pink Floyd still played gently throughout the room but it wasn’t necessarily a comfortable silence either. 

There was a breeze brushing your skin as you ate, the open doors letting in the air whip through the room. You were overwhelmed with the different smells in the room. To your left you had Taron smelling like his usual, beautiful self, in front of you you had the tacos and the different smells within them and then you were surrounded by the smells from outside. 

“I thought maybe we could play Scrabble or something after we’ve eaten?” Taron spoke with a mouthful of food. Luckily for you, he covered his mouth as he talked knowing that you hated it when he didn’t. “Or any other game. I just feel like I need a technology detox.” 

“That sounds so good!” You exclaimed. “I’ve already turned my phone off for the night because I’m fed up with it so a game night sounds really, really good.” 

Board games had been one of the things that Taron and yourself bonded over as children. And throughout your friendship, they remained a strong part of your lives. They were like a pair of sturdy shoes, really, the pair that you don’t wear often but when you do, you feel safe and like you could walk for hours. Board games with Taron were the escape you needed when the world seemed a little too heavy. 

There was one night when you were in year 11 where you were both so incredulously stressed from revision and exams (you were halfway through your 30 exam stint and could barely see the point of it all) that you couldn’t physically sit in the dining room for one more night. Just as you were about to walk around to Taron’s house when he knocked on the door with Scrabble in one hand and a bottle of Pepsi in the other. 

That night, you sat at the very back of the garden with the fairy lights your mum had hung as your lightsource, drank Pepsi out of the bottle and played Scrabble to ease your brain a little. You laughed, you cried, you sang, you danced, you yelled when Taron got a word better than yours _and_ landed on triple word and you sighed happily when you felt a little stressed. 

As you got older, the Pepsi turned into alcopops before turning into ‘real’ alcohol when you were old enough to buy it yourself. Some nights it was a bottle of whisky you’d found cheap in the off license, other nights it was vodka and diet cola, other nights it was wine. It didn’t matter what you drank though, just as long as you were with Taron and able to just take a break from the world for a little while. 

“Do you remember when we used to spend hours on end at the bottom of the garden playing board games?” You asked with a smile, your eyes softening as you spoke. 

Taron nodded with the same smile. “I do. It seems like a lifetime ago now.” 

“It does. But I guess it was. We were 16 and now we’re 30…” 

“God, don’t remind me. I feel like I’m over the edge now,” he said with a breathy laugh. “If you’d have asked me ten years ago where I wanted to be at the age of 30 I’d have said that I wanted to be married. Maybe with a baby but that wasn’t necessary. But now look, I’m 30, more single than I’ve ever been and stuck in a flat without any way of ‘getting myself out there’ as they say.” 

You watched Taron’s eyebrows furrow deep into his forehead, his shoulder rising and falling as he let out a sharp breath. Your heart ached for him. He had a heart of gold and was the most amazing human being--and he had the looks which definitely helped--but there he was, frowning because he didn’t have anybody that he could share his life with. 

“Hey,” you said gently, letting your hand rest on top of his when you’d put the last bit of your taco on the plate in front of you, “30 isn’t old. I know it feels like we’re geriatrics or something but we’re not. There’s still plenty of time for you to find a wife and have all the Welshy babies.” 

Taron’s hand was warm under yours but you tried to ignore it. You tried to focus on the way the very corners of his lips quirked up into a smile. 

“Welshy babies?” He repeated. 

“Welshy babies.” 

“I guess I’m not that over the edge just yet,” he giggled. “Enough about my premature midlife crisis. I hope you know I’m going to trounce you at Scrabble tonight.” 

Your tongue wet your lips quickly before you lifted your head up with your eyebrows raised. “Oh really? Well I think you’ve forgotten who won a game of Scrabble within fifteen minutes.” 

“I still stand by the fact that you were cheating!” Taron exclaimed. “How the fuck does the word ‘quizzify’ get you 419 points?!” 

“Easy,” you quipped with a smirk, wiping your hands on the napkin and sipping your wine. “I just so happened to pull the game’s only ‘Q’ and ‘Z’ tiles, and a blank tile that I could use as a ‘Z’. You’d left the letter ‘Y’ wide open for me and I just so happened to put the word over two triple word scores. And the ‘Z’ was on a double letter too.” 

“I still think you cheated. Who even thinks to play that word?” A giggle rippled through you as you pointed to yourself. “Alright, alright you show off. I’ll clean up, you go get the game and I challenge you to beat me today.” 

“Oh it’s on,” you said slowly, downing the rest of your wine before pushing yourself away from the table to go find the game. 

****** 

Taron was curled up on the sofa under a blanket with the book you’d bought him the day before in his hands and his glasses on the end of his nose. He looked so cosy as he read, cheeks an ever so slightly deeper shade of pink with the heat that wrapped itself around him and his knees up against the back of the sofa. His chest rose and fell slowly with each breath and his eyes barely blinked as he got lost in the words he was reading. 

You were sitting at the opposite end of the sofa, laptop on your knee as you tried to write a few emails. Even though you weren’t at work, you still liked to make sure that your inbox was emptied and that all emails that could possibly be important were answered. Most of your responses were wishing the person and their loved ones well and explaining that the last few orders had been sent out the week before but there was no guarantee on delivery time for them. Majority of the people who got back to you a second time were understanding and wished you well, but there were a couple who were getting annoyed. 

So you simply CC’d your boss into the email and he helped you out, explaining things the exact same way that you had which made you chuckle. You’d worked in retail before and it was always the same. A customer would always think that you were wrong and that you didn’t know what you were talking about. But your manager would always tell them the exact same thing you did. 

“What’s tickled you?” Taron queried when he peered over the top of his book. 

“Someone told me that I was wrong about something so I CC’d Derek into the email who proceeded to explain the same thing I had.” 

Taron shook his head with a breathy laugh. “Some people, I swear. Do you want a cuppa? I fancy a cuppa.” 

“I’ll make it!” You declared, closing your laptop and putting in the space between you. “Tea?” 

“Please, love. Thank you.” 

“That’s alright.” 

The kitchen was a lot brighter than the living room with the french doors on the far left letting in far more light than the small living room windows. It was cooler in there too and you had to wrap your cardigan (that was really Taron’s) around your body tighter to keep the chill away. Thankfully, the kettle was already filled so all you had to do was switch it on and prepare the mugs. 

As you pulled the spare bag of sugar out of the top cupboard, you remembered that you’d bought the ingredients to bake something. So, as you grabbed the sugar, you pulled the cocoa and other ingredients you would need down too with a smile. You couldn’t remember the first thing you ever baked but you could remember baking so much as a kid with your mum. And as you got older, you started to bake on your own and get more adventurous with it. 

When you first got to uni, you used baking as a coping mechanism for being away from home for the first time. And your flatmates all appreciated the sweet treats they would get home to after a long day of lectures. It was hard when you finished uni and didn’t have anyone to bake for anymore. But you baked nonetheless, whenever you could. 

Your phone buzzed against your bum with a notification so while you waited the last couple of minutes for the kettle to boil, you checked it. One new text from your mum. 

From: Mama <3  
Hi baby. How are you doing? Love you xx

To: Mama <3  
Hey mum. I’m actually doing alright right now. Going to make Gramma’s brownies for after dinner so I’m happy. How are you? I love you too xx  
While you waited for your mum to respond to your text, you clicked onto your music app and searched for Sam Cooke, deciding that you wanted to listen to 60s music while you baked. His voice filled the kitchen quickly and it didn’t take long for Taron to trudge into the room. He’d taken his glasses off but had indents on his nose from where they’d sat and you shook your head at him. 

“You really do need to start getting the plastic frame glasses so they don’t indent your nose,” you said gently, placing your phone on the worktop and pouring the then boiled water into the mugs. 

“I know I do,” Taron responded just as gently, leaning against the worktop next to you and watching your face as you finished the cuppas. He took note on all of your features and the way that they shifted as you concentrated. “Why do you have all that out?” 

He nodded his head towards the stuff you’d previously pulled out of the cupboard with confusion written on his face. 

“I thought maybe we could make brownies.” 

“Gramma May’s brownies?” He asked, excited laced in his voice as he smiled widely. You nodded at him with a playful eye roll. “Okay, okay, I shouldn’t have needed to ask. If you’re making brownies then you’re making Gramma May’s recipe.” 

“We’re making brownies,” you laughed. “I thought we could make them together before lunch. Gives us something to do.” 

Taron nodded enthusiastically before washing his hands and grabbing the utensils and bowls you would need. You’d forgotten how much he loved Gramma May’s brownies and the fact that he would do anything to eat them. Even if that meant walking on Lego in order to get them. If the brownies were the prize, he was there. 

Your phone buzzed again but vibrated harshly against the worktop, Sam’s volume dropping gently as a ping rang throughout the room. 

From: Mama <3  
That sounds so good. Bet Taron is running around with his shirt over his head like he just scored the winning goal!! I’m not doing too bad thank you, sweetie. It’s strange knowing that you’re home but not actually home, you know? Give Taron my love xx

You smiled at the text, your chest tightening as you thought about hugging your mum. Her hugs were always your favourite and had fixed many a negative feeling over your years. It pained you that you couldn’t give her a big squeeze and sit and natter about life with her for hours on end. The same with your dad too. 

“Mum says hi,” you said into the room. 

“Tell her I said hello.” 

To: Mama <3  
Not quite but I don’t reckon it’ll be long haha. It sucks so bad :((( All I want to do is come and hug you and watch This Morning with our fourth cuppa tea of the day. Taron sends his love back xx

From: Mama <3  
I know, baby. I want to do that too but right now we can’t. I know that the situation is completely different but if we could go three months of you being at uni without being able to get home, I’m sure we can do this. I love you, so bloody much, Y/N xx

To: Mama <3  
We can do it. I love you too xx

Putting your phone back into your pocket, you forced a smile and turned to Taron who was already watching you with worry. “Are you okay, love?” 

“Yeah,” you choked out, wiping under your eyes as you took a deep breath. 

“No you’re not,” he replied, grabbing your arms to pull you into his body so that he could hold you tight. “I know you miss her and I know this sucks but we’re going to get through it, yeah?” 

“It’s just so fucking hard, Taron. She doesn’t live with anybody so she’s all on her own in the house. The only social interaction she gets is when she nips to the shops and runs into Barbara and they have a natter. She can’t do that now and I feel so helpless.” 

You sobbed into his body as he ran his hands up and down your back reassuringly. He knew how close you were to your mum and how much lockdown would affect you as you couldn’t just pop by for a cuppa. 

“If she’s told you that she’s okay then you have to believe that she’s okay. She’s a strong one, your mum and I know that she’ll tell you if she’s really struggling,” Taron tried to calm you down. “But, how about for now we bake these brownies and go for our walk and take her some? We can put them by the front door and then go to the bottom of the garden and call her or something?” 

“That would be nice, thank you.” 

“No problem. What is a problem, however, is that I have no idea how to make said brownies so I need you to wipe those pretty eyes, get into the groove of Sam and show me what to do.” 

A smile made its way to your face as you pulled away from Taron’s arms and looked at him. He lifted his thumbs to wipe the tears away from your cheeks and under eyes before pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead, his lips cold against your warm skin. 

****** 

“No oh my god Taron not that much!” You cackled, watching Taron’s face drop as he looked between you and the bowl in his hands. “I said a scoop at a time, not pour the whole bowl of batter into it, numpty.” 

“Don’t numpty me, bitch.” 

You raised your eyebrows at him, silently challenging him. “Dickhead.” 

“Cowbag.” 

“Twat.” 

“Yeah I have no more,” he laughed. “So scoop at a time?” 

You nodded, “yeah. One scoop into each tray until the batter is gone. Otherwise you’ll get one giant brownie and one tiny brownie and no one wants a tiny brownie.” 

Taron stuck his finger up into the air and wiggled it as he pulled ‘uh huh’ kinda face. The kind of face that had you rolling on the floor laughing, hands on your belly when it started to hurt. It wasn’t even a laugh really because you weren’t making any noise. For some reason, you found the laugh refreshing. You had no idea why but you did. 

Maybe it was the way that you always felt insanely happy after it, or maybe it was because you got to see Taron smiling at you widely when you were finally able to stop. It didn’t matter why you found it refreshing. What mattered is that you always felt good after a laugh that could potentially give you a six pack. 

“You’re actually the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met,” Taron giggled when you were able to catch your breath again. He’d finished filling the trays while you were unable to breath and had tapped them on the worktop like you’d instructed him to do. “Are these going in the oven now?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed, “they’ll need to cook for about 40 minutes if we want them to be fudgy.” 

“Would Gramma May make them fudgy?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then 40 minutes we shall leave them.” 

That was when you looked at the mass of pots you had to clean and the state of the worktop from the cocoa powder and flour that was everywhere. You groaned rather loudly as you walked to the bowl that was filled with brownie mix only five minutes prior. With a long swipe, you collected remnants of the batter and turned to Taron with a sweet smile. 

“You alright there, lovely?” 

“Just peachy,” you giggled, wiping your finger down the length of his face and squealing when he guffawed at you. “Sucker!” 

“Oh you are on!” He exclaimed, putting some of the batter on his own finger and turning to you. “I’d get running if I were you.” 

Your feet carried you faster than you thought they would in circles around the flat, Sam Cooke still playing through your phone that had been abandoned in the disastrous kitchen. 

“Taron please!” 

“Don’t ‘Taron please’ me now, angel. Fair is fair.” 

“Nooooo!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all a work of FICTION! I do not depict Taron in this way in the slightest.

There were many positive adjectives that you could use, and had used in the past, to describe Taron. Exuberant, thoughtful, brave, confident, assertive, fair-minded and hard working to name but a few. But as you stood in front of him in the kitchen, eyes wide in disbelief and arms crossed over the front of your body, there was only one word that you could think of to describe the man in front of you. 

Insufferable. 

Among all of those positive personality traits that Taron held deep within himself, he was utterly insufferable. Nothing satisfied him from the moment his brain woke up and forced his eyes open to the moment he fell asleep again that night. The tea he’d made for himself was too weak for his liking or far too sweet, the food he ate earned a frown and a grumble as he reluctantly shoved forkful after forkful into his mouth, he couldn’t get himself comfortable and would shift continuously wherever he got himself seated and he would get high rate at the tiniest of things that really just didn’t matter. And he was all around the worst person to be around. 

He had, on many occasions while travelling the world for various press tours, expressed the fact that he could be the biggest negative Nancy if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed and people would laugh it off. But it was no laughing matter. You knew when he was in one of those moods and you knew to leave him alone to deal with whatever shit he was thinking because it wasn’t worth the arguments that would follow if you picked up on it. 

“What the fuck do you have you got stuck up your arse today?” You grumbled, ignoring your own advice of leaving him well alone when he was in a mood. Your eyes closed as you spoke, the backs of your eyelids burning from lack of sleep the night before. 

Scraping your mug over the counter until you could lift it into your hands properly, you opened your eyes and stared at him, deciding that you couldn’t be in the room with him any longer. So, you started to walk into the living room where you’d left your laptop and phone, his looming presence following you until you turned on your heel to face him. 

“I mean it, what the hell have you got up there?” 

“I haven’t got anything stuck up my fucking arse!” He seethed, anger evident in his strong voice, despite there being a slight wobble in his demeanour. 

You scoffed a laugh and blinked at him slowly, tucking your lips into your mouth as you tried to figure out what to say to him. “Nothing stuck up your arse? Then this is how you normally act is it? Like a self-entitled arsehole who doesn’t see how much of a twat he’s being the person he has to live with for god knows how long?” 

Taron looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed deep in his forehead and his lips pursed. You could clearly see your words flitting around in his head as he lifted his arms to fold over his chest much like you had in the kitchen a few minutes prior. “How am I being a twat, Y/N? Explain it to me. Tell me what I’ve done to warrant being called a twat in my own home.” 

“You really want to know?” You asked slowly, watching his head fall back on his neck before it pushed forward into a curt nod. “Okay then. This morning once I was awake I offered to make you a cup of tea and you turned your nose up, insisting that I should drink water before a cuppa in the morning, despite you being sat there with the biggest coffee I’ve ever seen and no water in sight. You could’ve just said ‘I’m alright, I’ve got coffee thanks’. Then,” you continued, not giving him the chance to respond knowing that he’d just get defensive, “when we went on our walk you walked ahead and ignored me when I asked you to slow down because my back hurt. Not to mention the fact that you purposely went the long way around town knowing that I was in pain.” 

“No one asked you to go on the walk,” he mumbled almost incoherently. 

“YOU DID!” You screeched back, silently apologising to any of your neighbours who could hear the domestic going on in the flat you were sharing with Taron. “You asked me to go on a walk with you so that you weren’t on your own! I don’t know what the fuck is up with you today but your head isn’t right. You need to sort it out and fast because I don’t know how the hell I’m going to stay in this flat if you’re acting like a fucking child.” 

Taron didn’t respond verbally. He merely shrugged sharply while staring at you, eyes dark and nostrils flared as if he wanted to say something back. But he didn’t, not even when his mouth opened and closed three times. You had absolutely no idea where the bee in his bonnet had come from but you weren’t impressed in the slightest. 

Of course, you knew that being stuck in a flat with no other human contact could have something to do with it but he’d been completely fine the night before, ordering you both a takeaway and insisting that you choose the film to watch as you got comfy under his duvet in the living room. The bad mood happened somewhere between him heading to his bedroom when you decided to call it a night and him waking up. Whatever it was, it didn’t mean that he had to be such an insufferable arsehole who only thought about himself. 

You took a deep breath and turned back on your heel so that you weren’t looking at him. In your free hand you grabbed your phone and your laptop so that you could head to your bedroom. If he couldn’t see how childish he was acting then you would spend the rest of the evening in your bedroom hiding away from him. You had your technology so you would be set and the likelihood of him being in the kitchen when you needed it was slim so you were good. 

Rather than stay in your workout gear (that most definitely was not used for working out), you walked to the drawers at the end of the bed and pulled out a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. You didn’t care that the two shades of grey clashed, they were comfortable and anything was better than the tight leggings and sports bra that you had been wearing for the walk you’d gone on. 

In an ideal world, you would have headed to the bathroom to have a hot shower but you heard the water turn on and Taron’s music start not long after you’d got into the bedroom so you knew you were out of look. His music was overly loud and you could hear it from where you sat curled on your bed. It was so loud that you could hear it over your laptop where you were watching reruns of Ugly Betty. But you couldn’t say anything. If you did, Taron would kick off again and you were already pretty sure there’d be a noise complaint put in about the two of you from the arguments throughout the day. 

So you breathed deeply and tried to ignore the music. That was easier said than done, and in the end you shut your laptop down and decided to scroll through Instagram instead. Which you then regretted when you saw the amount of people able to sit in their gardens to enjoy the warm weather the UK had been graced with during lockdown. 

Some of your friends were having BBQs in their back garden with all the alcoholic beverages, and others were sitting on a lounger enjoying the rays from the sun. You, on the other hand, were stuck in your bedroom so that you could avoid your best friend and his foul mood. Though all you wanted to do was sit in the garden with a gin and tonic and eat a burnt sausage that your dad insisted was perfectly cooked. 

In fact, all you wanted was for Taron to stop being a twat so you could sit at the dining table with the french doors open while you did your puzzle. That would have been ideal. You’d bought the puzzle a couple of days before, a 1000 piece beach scene that reminded you of Aber. Taron had helped you do the edges of the puzzle the night it arrived but had headed to bed before you started the middle. 

Exhaling a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, you let your eyes fall closed as Taron’s music stopped playing from across the hall. From your window you could hear the birds chirping as they started to head to their nests and places of rest for the night and you could hear the seagulls as they flew overhead away from the large expanse of water. 

It felt nice, to have a few minutes to yourself where you weren’t worrying about how to go about asking Taron what he wanted to eat or if he wanted you to make him a cuppa while you got yourself one. Where you weren’t worrying about how loud you were while padding through the flat or how noisy you were being while unloading the dishwasher. 

In the quiet, you were able to truly relax for the first time that day the stresses you’d faced slowly dissipating as you felt yourself fall into a state of bliss, your body becoming light as you snuggled into the mattress with the duvet covering just your feet. The flat was quiet with Taron in the living room watching TV or whatever he was doing, and you felt peaceful. 

The light in the room diminished with each passing minute, the sun descending into the horizon as day broke into night. Through a small slit in the curtains, that you couldn’t be bothered to get up and fix, you could see the pinks and purples that looked like watercolours in the sky, promising heat the following day. Though there were clouds hovered over the town, slowly turning into a light grey with the promise of a downfall. It felt very much like a pathetic fallacy, the sky ready to rain while you were avoiding your best friend in fear of another argument breaking out between the two of you. 

But it was quiet and calm all at the same time. A break in the clouds reminding you that nothing lasts forever. You wouldn’t be ignoring Taron for long just as much as he wouldn’t be an arsehole forever--or so you hoped anyway. You took those few minutes of quiet to reflect on the day even though it wasn’t a very good day. When you first woke up, you’d been excited to start the day and be productive. But the excitement for the day disappeared when you saw the look on Taron’s face. 

But there you were, in the calm and the quiet, thankful that you could have a few minutes to yourself as the sun continued to set. For as long as you could remember, you’d appreciated the few minutes you got to yourself during sunset. Those few minutes were your time to thank the universe for your life, the air you breathe, the house you live in and the family that you’d lucked out on. It was even better at home where you could sit on your balcony and breathe in the fresh air. 

Upon entering your room earlier in the day, you’d pushed open the small window that overlooked the town you loved more than anything to let the sun escape. But as night descended and the moths awoke from their slumber, you’d pulled it closed again and accepted the fact that you would wake up in a pool of your own sweat. It wasn’t a nice thought but it was better than being dive bombed by the flying insects you hated so much all night.

******

You couldn’t be sure when exactly you’d fallen asleep but you didn’t wake up until 9:30 in the morning, the sun blazing through the slit in the curtain and making you regret your laziness the night before. But you were awake and you couldn’t get back to sleep. And it didn’t help that your stomach grumbled loudly as you grabbed your phone, the little red battery flashing at you angrily. 

Once you’d successfully plugged it in to charge, you threw the covers away from your body and headed to the bathroom to pee and brush your teeth. It was steamy so you knew Taron had already had a shower which meant that you would be free to have one just as soon as you’d fed your angry stomach. 

The flat itself was quiet, far too quiet for that time in the morning. Taron wasn’t in the kitchen when you got there and he wasn’t in the living room either. So he was either in his room or having a sulk somewhere else in town. You didn’t mind either of those scenarios. He still hadn’t apologised for acting like a twat and you weren’t in any mood to hear him grumble about how you were pouring too much cereal into your both. 

As if to prove how pissed off you still were, you grabbed the chocolate shells from the cupboard by the french doors and poured the biggest bowl you could, putting it back before getting the milk and putting some in the bowl. You didn’t even bother with a cup of tea, far too ready to be back in bed where you could avoid Taron a little bit longer. If he could act like a child the day before, you could act like a child by ignoring him. Giving him a taste of his own medicine seemed only fair. 

It was when you passed his bedroom that you could hear him talking to someone. You couldn’t work out who but you hoped that he wasn’t talking about you even though he probably was. Telling whoever he was on the phone to that you’d been a bitch and was avoiding him, leaving out the part where _he_ was the one to cause all of the drama in the first place. 

Sitting in your bed with your laptop open in front of you, you continued watching the episode of Ugly Betty you’d been watching the night before when Taron was in the shower and you ate your cereal, ignoring your phone for just a little longer. You’d turned the volume up enough that you couldn’t hear Taron talking in his bedroom and let yourself get lost in the TV show. 

It was a couple of hours later when three tiny knocks (that still somehow reverberated throughout your entire room) sounded from the other side of your door and you exhaled quietly, not needing Taron to hear you. 

“Y/N can I come in? Please?” 

He sounded nervous, voicy shaky as he let his hand fall away from the wooden door separating the two of you. 

“I guess,” you mumbled, putting your laptop on the bed beside you and putting your phone in your lap. There was a panicky feeling filling your chest and you didn’t know why. It was only Taron. And sure, you weren’t exactly happy with him, but he was still Taron. 

The door creaked with how slowly he pushed it open, head poking from behind it as he looked towards you. But not at you. His eyes averted your gaze as you looked at him slightly impatiently. “I was thinking of heading for a walk in half an hour and wondered if you wanted to come with? You don’t have to, obviously but I just thought I would ask rather than just go.” 

You thought for a minute, checking the time on your phone and weighing your options. It was either go with him on what would potentially be an awkward walk or stay inside on your own. If you stayed inside, you could listen to music and clean and do whatever but if you went out you wouldn’t be cooped in the flat. You could feel the sea breeze brush against your skin as you walked to the top of the hill that overlooked the beach. 

“I’ll come with. Half an hour, yeah?” 

Taron nodded, whispering a “yeah” before closing the door. 

And just like that you were on your own again, surrounded by the screaming whispers of your thoughts. 

******

“Y/N, Taron! How are you my beauties?” Tina’s voice spoke from her front door. 

The walk to Tina’s had been pretty quiet, the only talking coming from the two of you being you asking which way you were walking. Taron kept himself to himself but walked by your side rather than a few steps in front of you which you were thankful for. At least you looked like you were walking together. But you weren’t walking together. You might have been standing next to one another but you were on two completely separate walks. 

Within seconds of hearing your names, Rosie and Mari were squeezing their way past Tina to stand ever so slightly in front of her, waving manically at the of you standing at the bottom of the garden. “Hi!” they chorused as you both waved back, reciprocating their greeting. 

Taron’s foul mood--that hadn’t seemed to disappear with a good night’s sleep--had followed you closely throughout the beginning of the walk, hanging above your heads like a grey cloud ready to burst at any given second. But as he saw the three people at the front door, it seemed to disappear completely as a smile broke out and filled the entire bottom half of his face. 

His eyes narrowed as his cheeks rose high on his face and his lips parted to show his teeth. It was a complete 360 from how he’d been acting for over 24 hours. In some ways it made your heart swell because you were made aware that his anger and frustration hadn’t quite hit his heart and he was still able to be happy. But at the same time it angered you because he was clearly taking it out on you.

“Could be bet-” 

“We’re great!” Taron interjected, covering the beginnings of your own voice with his bellowing in front of him. “How are you guys doing?” 

Tina looked at you for a brief second and you forced the corners of your lips to quirk into a smile, your bottom lip pulled slightly into your mouth. She eyed you curiously but looked away when Rosie knocked her leg slightly. The young girl apologised and leaned into her mum for an awkward side hug. 

“We’ve actually been pretty good,” she said with her famous smile, watching her son shift his weight onto his right leg. “Got the paddling pool out yesterday for the girls because it’s so blooming warm out and they keep insisting we watch your films so they can see you.” 

Your heart near enough melted at Tina’s confession and you could see Taron let his eyes fall closed as he tried to compose himself. He had always been such a family guy and since lockdown, he’d found it harder each and every day to not see his family. So you knew that’s why he’d walked up their street and text his mum to go outside for a minute. He wanted to see them in any way that he could. 

“What did you watch last night?” You asked them gently. Taron watched you from the corner of his eyes before turning back to the girls who were smiling widely. 

Mari’s smile was identical to Taron’s. Dimples set into each cheek and eyes crinkling as her entire face lit up. Both of the girls resembled Taron in some way but Mari was his double in looks and personality. Tina had always joked that anyone would think Mari was his daughter and not his sister. Which had actually happened on occasion. 

“We watched Eddie!” She shouted happily, her hands out to the sides as she mimicked the Eagle dance he’d done in the film. “Mummy says we can watch Sing tonight though!” 

“You like Eddie, don’t you?” Taron queried delicately, taking a deep breath and gulping down a lump that’d formed in his throat. The girls nodded enthusiastically and your smile turned into a real smile. One that wasn’t completely forced. “Well if mummy will let you, I’m going to be on Youtube on Friday night talking! You’ll have to see if you can watch it, huh?” 

Your stomach dropped at his words. You couldn’t remember him telling you that he was doing something on Thursday night but maybe he had and you’d just forgotten? But you were more certain that he hadn’t told you than you were that he had told you. Which to anyone else probably wouldn’t make any sense but to you it did. 

“Oh that sounds fun! What’s it for?” Tina asked, not missing the way your smile faded again as you turned to him so you could listen and figure out if he’d told you. 

Taron lifted his hands together and rolled his fingers until they cracked. “It’s to raise money for NHS Wales. Matt Johnson is hosting and it’s going to be a five hour livestream with loads of other Welsh celebs. Ruth Jones and Rob Brydon are doing it, Alex Roach, Charlotte Church, Michael Sheen and Luke Evans too.” 

Nope. He definitely hadn’t told you. And you knew that Tina knew something was wrong with you from the way she eyed you in question when she saw your tongue in your cheek and your head tilted back slightly. You just smiled at her in hopes that she wouldn’t verbally question your demeanour. 

“Oh that sounds lovely! Send me more details later and I’ll make sure we watch it and donate.” 

“Will do. I think I’m going live at half seven, eight ish. I know the girls should be in bed by then but I’ll only be on for fifteen minutes or so.” 

Tina nodded and the girls looked at her hopefully. “That’s fine. It’s not a school night so we can let them stay up a little later than they’re meant to.” 

The girls jumped in excitement, running down the steps and in a circle around the garden making you go dizzy though you laughed at them anyways. When they got a little too close to where you and Taron stood, Tina asked them to move further into the garden and they obliged, though you could easily make out the frown on their faces. Even you wanted to scoop them up into a tight hug so you could only imagine how hard it was for Taron. 

“Gosh I want to come down there and hug you both so tightly,” she spoke up with a sigh of deflation. Taron’s frown matched hers and your once warm heart didn’t feel so warm again. It felt sad. Sad for your best friend not being able to hug the most important person in his life. Sad for Tina not being able to hold her son. And sad for the girls who looked like they could cry knowing they couldn’t hug their brother. 

“Me too, mum, me too. Soon though, yeah? I promise I’ll sprint over here as soon as quarantine is over and hug you for hours and hours.” 

Tina chuckled lightly, lifting her hand to her lips before pushing it in Taron’s direction in a kiss. “As soon as it’s over. I can’t wait to hug you either, Y/N.” 

“I can’t wait to hug you too! Feels like so long since I’ve seen you properly.” 

Tina nodded just as Steve shouted that dinner was ready. He peered over Tina’s shoulder to wave to the two of you before asking the girls to go wash their hands ready to eat. They grumbled but obeyed, waving to you both and telling you that they loved you before slumping into the house with frowns on their faces. 

“I’m sorry if we’ve upset them by popping around,” you spoke softly. “Neither of us thought about how it would affect them.” 

“Oh don’t go worrying yourself, lovely,” Tina smiled. “It was nice to see you and I’m sure they’ll be fine when they’ve found out it’s brownies and ice cream for afters today.” 

“Bye mum, I love you.” Taron was trying not to cry and you could tell with the way his voice quivered as he spoke, a lump visibly forming in his throat. 

“I love you too, darling boy. I love you too, Y/N.” 

You took a deep breath with a loving smile. “I love you too, Tina. See you soon, yeah?” 

“Of course. Bye.” 

Taron waited for the front door to click shut before he looked at you to see if you were ready to go. You nodded, offering him a sympathetic smile. He might have gotten on your tits for over a full day and he might still be acting a bit like a dick but he was human and you knew how hard it must have been to see his mum and not hug her. Just like he’d understood when you couldn’t hug your mum.

****** 

The walk back to the flat seemed a little easier than the way away from it. The air around you felt a little lighter, the grey cloud of Taron’s bad mood starting to lift as he made small talk with you as you walked with him. Sure, it was still awkward and there was a thick fog of tension between you but it was slowly starting to disappear enough that you could see further in front of you than a single metre. 

During the walk, you hadn’t mentioned the live stream and how he hadn’t told you. Partially because you’d not yet figured out the best way to bring it up to him but also because you had no idea how to word it. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the livestream?’ felt far too bold, ‘So...this livestream’ felt far too immature and ‘tell me more about the livestream’ felt as though you wanted to make things awkward between you. 

But you wanted to know more. There was clearly a reason as to why he hadn’t told you about it and for some reason you were certain he’d known before his bad mood started. Probably when he got a phone call three days prior. But he hadn’t told you, even though you told one another everything. 

“What would you like for tea tonight?” You asked as you turned the corner where the sea came into full view. The sun was still high in the sky so it felt strange that the beach was empty, besides a couple of people walking along the warm sand, their shoes in one hand and an ice cream in the other. “I know we don’t have much in so I’ll have to go to the shop in a couple of days but we’ve got enough to keep us going for tonight and tomorrow at least.” 

Taron hummed to a random song that you couldn’t quite make out as he thought about what he wanted to eat. “Do we have any pasta in? I feel like that’s filling but still kinda light with it being so damn warm out.” 

You nodded. “We do have pasta in. I’ll have to use the onion and garlic tomato sauce though because we don’t have the tomatoes in to make my own. There are some mushrooms in the fridge though if you want to put them in? Have another texture in there.” 

“That sounds good,” he spoke quietly, turning to you with the faintest hint of a smile. It was a smile that made you feel good inside, like he was coming around a little bit.“Why don’t we make it together? Might be nice.” 

You nodded with a smile. “I’d like that very much, thank you.” 

Falling back into a silence, only that time one that was a little more comfortable than the others, you continued walking down the road before turning to head back into the town and towards the flat. Your strides matched his, your heels hitting the floor at the same time and sounding all around you. There was the faint sound of children playing in their gardens as you passed down a street of houses, their laughter warming your heart. 

Taron looked ahead the entire walk and you could still feel the tension between you. And even though it wasn’t as thick as it had been, it was still suffocating. You weren’t able to breathe freely, your lungs full of unspoken words and feelings that you didn’t know how to describe. Taron felt it too, the underlying struggle to keep yourself afloat from the sea of emotions you were both surrounded by. 

Neither of you spoke about it though. Taron remained silent as you finished your walk, the only sounds leaving him the deep, continuous breathing as he pressed the button on the lift. You too were insanely out of breath, the physical exertion not what you’d planned for the day. He let you into the flat first, holding the door open for you and nodding when you thanked him noiselessly. 

“I’ll go get changed and then we can start dinner, yeah?” You offered when Taron locked the door behind you both. 

“Okay,” he responded quietly, hanging the keys on the hook by the wall. “I’ll get us a cuppa, if you’d like one?” 

“Do you even have to ask?” You giggled. Taron nodded again, only letting his lips turn up slightly. But it was enough for you. Enough of a smile for you to exhale happily when you’d closed your bedroom door behind you. 

“Thank fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, changing out of your clothes and putting your phone on charge for an hour or so while you cooked and ate. “Finally got a smile out of the idiot.” 

****** 

“So,” you started as you filled the kettle to boil for the pasta. “This livestream thing.” 

“What about it?” Taron asked in a low voice, grabbing the pasta and sauce out of the cupboard by the fridge. 

You took a deep breath. “You never told me about it. How come you didn’t?” 

Not that you would ever admit it, but you were hurt that he hadn’t even mentioned it. You told one another everything, always. When he got a part in any film, you were the person he rang after his parents unless you were there with him when he found out and he was the first person you’d told about getting onto your Doctorate. It’d been that way since the day you became friends, the ability to tell one another everything came easy to you. 

“I didn’t realise I had to tell you everything,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at you. 

You scoffed in disbelief, shutting the top of the kettle harshly and practically throwing it back onto the cradle. His eyes met yours as you turned to face him, blood rushing to your face as you stared at him. 

“I know I’m going to regret this later but what the fuck, Taron? I thought you’d dropped the attitude but clearly fucking not.” Taron scoffed back, sticking his tongue into his cheek. “Oh, knock it off.” 

“If you hadn’t bloody mentioned it we’d be fine.” 

“How am I meant to not mention it? I thought we told one another everything and I have to find out about the livestream when you tell your mum? With her looking at me wondering why I didn't already know? Way to humiliate me!” 

Taron shook his head as though you were the one in the wrong. “Oh I’m sorry that I wanted to tell my mum first before you,” he growled, folding his arms over his chest as he watched your face contort in anger. 

“Oh I’m sorry but what the fuck Taron? We’re fucking living together right now! I get you wanting to tell your mum first but could you have not, oh, I don’t know, called her? At least give me some fucking clue rather than let me look like an idiot in front of Tina. Do you care even the slightest bit how I’m feeling right now? How helpless I feel and how I want to help you and make everything okay again? Do you even care how I feel in general?” 

You knew that you were swearing excessively but Taron was so frustrating and you have no control of the expletives leaving you. There was at least one expletive per sentence which told Taron just how fed up you were. Not that he stopped acting ridiculous. But you started to question if you were in the wrong somehow. Had you acted like a bitch without realising and that’s why he was acting like a dick? Had you done something to offend him? 

“Do you know how I feel, Y/N? Knowing that the girl I’m sharing my flat with feels the need to know everything going on in my life and doesn’t care how it makes me feel?” 

“Oh for fucks sake, Taron, stop acting like the mother fucking victim here! You’re not listening to what I’m trying to tell you. For two days straight I’ve been walking on eggshells around you and I have no idea why you’re even in this mood. What happened? Did I do something to offend you? Did I act like a bitch the other day? Tell me. Tell me why you’re acting like everyone is beneath you and like I’m the biggest bitch that’s ever walked this earth. Tell me so I know what the fuck to do.” 

Your chest heaved as you watched his, nostrils flared and eyes dark as he shifted his weight and threw his hands to his sides dramatically. His bad mood had clearly started to rub off on you and you knew that it was a recipe for disaster. If you were both in a foul mood, you’d turn it into a competition to see who could stay mad for the longest and that would end badly for everybody, and not just the two of you. 

“I’ll act like the victim until you stop screaming bloody murder,” he retaliated. 

“Taron, I swear,” you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose tightly and clenching your eyes shut. “You were fine Saturday night and now look. You’ve been in a mood ever since you woke up yesterday and I’d bloody love to know what happened. That’s all I want to know.” Your voice wavered ever so slightly as all the things you wanted to say rushed to your head. 

“You’re smart, you figure it out.” 

That was the final straw for you. The jar of sauce that was on the side next to the bag of pasta was shoved back into the cupboard and you walked to the fridge by Taron to get a yoghurt. “I’m gonna go eat this in my bedroom and leave you to be a twat on your own.” 

You could clearly hear Taron scoff as you grabbed a spoon and headed down the hall, tears brimming in your eyes from anger. Angry tears were the worst kind of tears. They made you look weak and like you were ‘giving in’ but that’s not what it was. You only ever got teary when angry with someone you loved. Because the pain of arguing with them cut you deep. 

“That’s right, walk away like you always fucking do. Leave me out here on my own while you sulk like a child.” 

“TARON I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD,” you screeched as you spun on your heel, your fluffy-socked foot almost sliding too far and sending you skittling to the hardwood foor, “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU AND YOUR SNARKY FUCKING COMMENTS. Either act like a man and tell me what the fuck is going on or shut the fuck up and get over whatever shit is in your head right now.” 

You didn’t let him answer you. Rather you slammed your bedroom door and trudged to your bed, putting the yoghurt on the bedside table and climbing under the covers where you finally let yourself cry. There was no way that Taron would even attempt to come into your room for the rest of the night so you knew that you were safe to cry. 

The tears burned after a while but you couldn’t stop. Far too many emotions were hitting you at once and you were beyond overwhelmed. You couldn’t physically remember the last time you fought with Taron, let alone to the degree you were arguing then, so as you sobbed uncontrollably in bed, you wondered what it would mean for your friendship. Your brain couldn’t see how the two of you could ever get back to being perfect friends after the way you’d screamed at one another. 

Your arguments were far too similar to the fights your parents had before their divorce and it scared you. Would Taron be in the flat when you woke up the following morning or would he have gone? Would you wake up to a note on the fridge saying ‘I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry’? The thought alone was enough for you to hyperventilate, your lungs unable to get the right amount of oxygen to keep you grounded. 

With a light, fuzzy head, you pulled the covers over your head and curled into a tight ball, hoping to quieten the sobs that were still evacuating you. Though you knew Taron couldn’t hear you when you heard the shower turn on and his music play again. Flashbacks to the day before rushed to your mind and you rolled your eyes at them. 

A harsh vibration from next to you startled you back to reality, your hand lifting to wipe at your eyes so that you could see the notification that popped up on your lockscreen--a photo of Taron and yourself at Glastonbury the year before, his leg in your hand over your waist and his head flung back as you laughed together. It was a fun memory and one that made you forget how mad you were at him for a little while. 

From: Mumma Tina   
Hello my lovely. I just wanted to check in because you didn’t seem yourself when you came around with Taron xx

To: Mumma Tina   
I’m alright. Thank you for checking up on me though xx 

Taron started to sing along to whatever music he was playing and you rolled your eyes (that stung from crying) at his ability to act as though he couldn’t feel the tension in the flat. Or maybe he’d heard your sobs and was using the shower as a way to drown out the sound. 

From: Mumma Tina   
Y/N, darling. I’ve known you for years. I know that you’re not alright. You can talk to me, you know that xx

To: Mumma Tina   
Your son is insufferable xx

You scoffed a laugh as you sent the text, knowing that she’d be in her living room with her cuppa tea watching whatever was on the TV shaking her head wondering what her son had done that time. And she’d definitely want all of the gossip so that she could make a fair decision on how to treat the situation. 

Your ringtone scared you when Tina called you, her caller ID giving you a sense of comfort that you’d been lacking for a few days. She always knew when to text and when to call you and you were thankful that she’d called you because your eyes hurt too much to type more text messages to her. At least coherent text messages. 

“What’s he done this time?” She chuckled when you swiped right to answer the call. 

A breathy laugh escaped you and you took a deep breath. “He woke up in the worst mood yesterday and then just keeps making sly comments and it’s getting to me now. Everything I do he’s got a snarky comment. It’s like I can’t do anything right. And then he’s acting like a victim.” 

You weren’t too scared to talk at full volume because Taron was still in the shower blaring his music and singing along. And you didn’t really care if he heard you, it’s not like you hadn’t told him how he was acting already. Tina sighed to herself, trying to think of what to say to make the situation better. 

“I’m sorry he’s being that way. Have you tried talking to him?” 

“Yep,” you grumbled. “But then he plays the victim card or tells me to figure out why he’s so fed up myself even though I don’t even know when he started feeling this way. He won’t listen to mme.” 

“I feel like this is something deeper, gorgeous girl. I don’t think you’re annoyed that he’s in a mood,” Tina assumed. “I think there’s something you’re not admitting and you don’t have to tell me, I understand if you’d rather not. But I’m here. You know me and I hope you know that you can trust me.” 

You took a deep breath, a few tears escaping again as you choked a sob, head falling forward into your hand as you started to topple. And when you started, you couldn’t stop. Every single emotion that you’d held in for weeks surfaced and fought to be the first thing spoken about. Tina whispered to tell you that you were okay and you could tell her in your own time and you were thankful for her. 

“I just, I feel like Taron...he doesn’t listen when I try to tell him how I feel,” you stuttered, lifting your head but not wiping the tears. There was no point trying to stop them again because you were bound to start soon. “I know he’s feeling like shit--oops oh my god I’m so sorry for swearing,” you rushed, hand over your mouth as Tina chuckled. 

“That’s okay. Keep going.” 

“I know he feels rubbish,” you corrected yourself, shaking your head, “and that we’re both cooped up together but at times it just feels like my feelings aren’t valid and that he’s the one that should be getting all of the reassurance.” 

“And how do you feel?” Tina asked, keeping her voice calm as she urged you to keep talking to her. 

“Like I’m drowning. The point where I’m struggling in the water and can only come up for the tiniest bit of air before I’m pushed down by the current again. Nothing seems real, I want to cry every single hour of the day, I miss normal life and being by myself without feeling guilty. I miss my mum and dad and I miss being at work. I’m trying so hard to stay afloat but it would be nice if the person I’m living with took my feelings into account, you know?” 

“I know, gorgeous. I’m really sorry that you’re feeling so low lately.” Tina’s voice wobbled and you felt bad for unloading your baggage onto her, apologising quickly. “Do not apologise for having feelings, young lady. If I could slap some sense into my son I would. And I know this is the worst advice but give take a couple of days to focus on you, please.” 

“I will. You know I love him like crazy but this mood he’s in is making me feel like I can’t stay here. I’ve packed my bag and got it next to the dresser because I’m close to going to mums and self-isolating there because I can’t take him thinking I’m strong when I’m hurting more than ever before.” 

Tina sighed again and you could see the saddened look she gave you through the phone. “Don’t leave yet. You’ll regret it if you do. I know you miss your mum and Taron is being stubborn but you’d regret not being in the flat if you left.” 

“I just don’t know what to do, Tina,” you sobbed again. “I feel like I’ve done something wrong to make him feel this way. And I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be around him when he doesn’t care about me.” 

“Darling girl, get some sleep. If he’s still acting like this tomorrow call me and I’ll tell him to get his act together. I’m really sorry there’s nothing I can do to help you. I love you.” 

“I love you. Thank you, Tina. For actually listening to how I feel and making me feel worthy to be here. I appreciate you.” 

“Bye gorgeous.” 

The line went dead and you dropped your phone to the bed below you, your hands covering your face as you sobbed even louder than you had before. Telling Tina how you felt was good but you still felt like shit. Your head hurt from the emotions filling it and all you wanted to do was scream. Scream into the abyss. But you couldn’t. You were stuck in a flat with the one person you didn’t want to see anymore. 

Completely unaware that he’d heard the end of your conversation with his mum with every word cutting him deeper than a knife.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talks of panic attacks!   
> Explicit Language  
> Angst

You’d grown weirdly accustomed to the flat being quiet at all times of the day, but especially when you woke up. No more could Taron be heard singing to himself as he pottered around the kitchen making a hot drink and breakfast. No more was there music playing from a speaker as he tidied and cleaned or as he read through potential scripts, or just in general as he went about his usual routine. The TV wasn’t playing in the background of meetings anymore and you barely ate together. You’d kept your phone on silent and the birds seemed to stop calling. 

Two days of a near silent flat when you first arose from whatever slumber you were in felt like they lasted two years. You had to wade through the fog of tension and unresolved anger in order to get absolutely anywhere in the flat. Even pulling your bedroom door open and pushing it closed before any negative energy could get in was a struggle. So much so that you’d ordered a Himalayan salt lamp from Amazon in hopes that it would purify your room enough that you’d have a safe space to go. 

The two of you had learnt to avoid one another easily, listening out to know if it was safe to do something without having to get caught in a tangle of tension. Taron would shower early in the morning before you woke up and you would shower before you went to bed. He would wake up that little bit earlier than you so that he could make his breakfast and head back to his bedroom before you left your room, with you doing the same once you heard his door close. You might have been living in the same flat but you definitely weren’t living together. 

Not like you had been at least. When lockdown first started, you would spend every night playing a board game or Mario Kart on the Wii, you would cook dinner together, clean up together, listen to music and bake together with tears falling down your cheeks as you laughed. Whenever you were in the flat, the other wasn’t too far away, calling out to continue the conversations you were having. But after what you had described as the two days from hell, things just weren’t clicking anymore. 

When you’d ended your call with Tina, you let yourself slump into the duvet, pulling it up to your chin and inhaling comfort from the heat. Though you woke up again at something past three with incredibly sore eyes from your quiet sobs. And when your stomach growled loudly, your attention turned to the unopened yoghurt that had been left at the side of the bed. You grumbled to yourself before peeling the duvet away from your body so that you could head through the kitchen to get something proper to eat. 

With it being so stupidly early in the morning you’d expected to get around the flat freely without bumping into Taron so you were shocked to find him leaning against the counter in the kitchen with a mug in his hands and tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so little, shoulders slumped and bottom lip gutting out as though he’d let out a long breath not long before. He wore a pair of pyjama bottoms and one of his long-sleeved t-shirts, something he wouldn’t normally wear to bed. 

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly from the doorway, your voice giving up on you from lack of sleep and cracking slightly. The two of you might not have been in the best of moods with one another but you would be damned if you didn’t ask if he was okay when he was crying in front of you.

He nodded once, wiping under his eyes with the backs of his hands before he stepped to the side so that you could reboil the kettle for your own drink. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine. He looked far from fine. You could tell that there was something eating him up inside even if he wasn’t going to tell you. His eyelids fluttered shut on their own accord as he took a deep breath, one that expanded his chest more than ever, and took a sip of whatever he was drinking. 

“Are you sure?” You asked softly, watching him not at you almost unnoticeably. “Okay, if you’re sure.” There was no need to press him further. That would more than likely start an argument when it really wasn’t necessary. If he’d wanted to tell you then he would have. But he hadn’t. 

You were also far too exhausted to hold up a heated conversation, physically and mentally. In the days after all the shit started, you’d barely slept, tossing and turning every five minutes and never quite finding a position comfortable enough to succumb to sleep. Whenever a miracle happened and you did manage to get comfortable, your bladder would screech at you and force you back out of bed. And you were never able to find that comfortable position again when you got back. 

“Would you like some toast? I never ate that yoghurt so I’m bloody starving.” 

“I’m good,” he said, still not looking you in the eyes, “thank you though.” 

You sighed quietly. A little in relief and a little in exasperation. Though you didn’t know why you were exasperated. He’d given you a genuine response to your question and had thanked you for the offer, something he hadn’t done in days but something that made you feel a little better inside. 

“Listen, Taron, I’m-” 

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” he spoke quickly, ignoring the potential of the first real conversation between the two of you in days, and emptying the rest of his tea down the drain and leaving his cup to be washed when he woke up a few hours later. 

You rolled your lips into your mouth and looked away from him. A lump formed in your throat and your eyes stung with the threat of tears. With a nod of your head, he was gone. Down the hall and into his bedroom where he no doubt fell back to sleep pretty quickly. The click of his bedroom door echoed throughout the entire flat, almost as though you were in an empty shell with nothing to soften the blow. You’d thought the flat as empty for a few days but right then it felt emptier than it had before. 

The knowledge that you couldn’t say three short words to him before he was running away to get away from you hurt you. Your heart physically ripped in two as you gripped the front of the worktop and let out a choked sob, the tears following soon after. Hot, salty tears trailed down your cheeks until they fell from your jaw, landing on your t-shirt and cooling a patch of your skin. 

Your lungs caved in on you and didn’t let enough air in to keep you standing upright. Breathing was hard and painful. Short, shallow breaths the only thing you could manage as your heart pounded in your ribcage to the point where you were sure that it would rip a hole through your body. Your head went into a dizzy frenzy as you turned around so that you were facing the opposite wall where you were able to slide down the front of the cupboard until your bum touched the cold floor. 

It was then that you could hear your own sobs. Loud and vicious against the quiet of the flat. Your knees involuntarily bent up to your chest and your head flew forward to rest in the palms of your hands as you continued to sob on the kitchen floor. Nothing mattered right then; the kettle that had boiled, the bread that you’d not even managed to push down into the toaster, how loud you were being as you let out all of the pain and suffering you’d bottled up for days. 

Everything around you felt like it was falling on top of you. Like brick by brick the flat was toppling to the ground, the safe and secure place you once called home no longer giving you the stability and comfort. The ocean of emotions you’d spoken to Tina about pulled you under one final time, no longer letting you up to the surface for air. 

You couldn’t breathe, your lungs filled with water as you screamed for help. You couldn’t speak, your vocal chords having been cut. You couldn’t move. You were paralysed on the floor with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands. There was no way of knowing when you could be able to stand up again. For all you know, that’s where you would stay forever, surrounded by the falling bricks of the flat, the knowledge that your best friend didn’t want to be around you cutting you up and the thought that maybe you deserved to feel that way. 

Maybe everything had been your fault from the start. Maybe the reason Taron was mad was because of you. Maybe you’d been the one to start the arguments. Maybe you did deserve to feel that way. 

With each shallow inhale, you were exhaling even faster with a loud sob. Sobs loud enough that you knew people in the flat downstairs would hear. Sobs loud enough that they rang throughout the entire flat. But Taron never left his room again. He left you in the kitchen on your own, struggling to breathe and struggling to cope with everything with no help and no support. All you needed was support. For him to help you into bed. Then he could continue to ignore you for all you cared. 

But he didn’t even do that. 

“Taron,” you choked, barely above a whisper. Your voice failed you. Failed you completely to the point where you didn’t know if you’d even shouted him in the first place. There was a loud, high pitched ringing in your ears and you couldn’t get it to stop. “Taron,” you tried again, hoping that by some miracle he would hear your cries for help and rush to your side. 

But he didn’t. Your voice travelled no further than the table in front of the bookshelf so there was no way he’d have heard you. Every part of your body hurt. Your eyes stung from the hot tears forcing their way out, your chest hurt from not being able to breathe properly, your throat hurt from trying to shout and your muscles hurt from tensing them for so long. 

You tried to shout him three more times but to no avail. You berated yourself for not picking up your phone when you left your room. At least if you had that you could have sent him a text asking if he could help you. But you didn’t know that you would need the help. When you left your room you didn’t know that he was going to be in the kitchen crying to himself. You didn’t know that he was going to blow you off when you tried to talk to him. And you certainly didn’t know that you would wind up curled in a ball on the kitchen floor unable to move and unable to breathe.

All you wanted was to make yourself a hot drink and some food so that your stomach stopped screaming at you. It was so empty that you felt sick, unable to control your body as it shook violently. Both from feeling hungry and from the inconsolable sobs that escaped you despite your attempts to stop them. Your sobs continued as you struggled to breathe, your lungs not letting in enough oxygen to keep you conscious. 

******

You woke up in a mound of blankets, head between two pillows and body completely limp. You ahced everywhere, from the top of your head that felt as though it might be splitting to the tips of your toes. The night before felt like a fever dream and you had absolutely no idea how you’d gotten from the heap on the kitchen floor back to your bed. You couldn’t remember anything after trying to call out for Taron. 

Despite your legs feeling like jelly and thinking that you could pass out at any given moment, you climbed out of bed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Your breathing was slower than it had been the night before but your chest hurt. Not to mention the fact that your eyes could barely stay open for longer than five seconds. 

You swayed as you walked to the door, your hand pressed against the wall to keep yourself upright. Whenever you went down to the beach and went into the water of whenever you’d been to a swimming pool, your legs felt really strange and like you were still treading water even hours after you’d been back on solid land. That’s how you felt as you walked through the flat. 

The entire flat was quiet, far too quiet for two people to be in there. The bathroom door was wide open and he wasn’t in there, his bedroom door was open which it never was when he was in there and he wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen either. Knuckles rubbed at your eyes as you took three deep breaths, wondering if your blurry vision had attributed to you missing him. 

But then you saw it, the bright pink post-it note on the front of the fridge with Taron’s writing scribbled on it. 

‘I’ve just nipped to my mums. Apparently she’s got some veg for us- T x’

A simple ‘x’. One letter. A thousand levels of relief. A kiss meant that he was warming up a little bit, that he didn’t feel as cold towards you. Slowly but surely, you could see a little further through the fog of tension. Slowly but surely you felt lighter, like you were able to make it back to the surface of the water for air. 

Taking advantage of the however many minutes you had to yourself, you switched the kettle on again and grabbed a spoon from the drawer by your hips. On the worktop was your mug from the night before and the tea and sugar caddies were already waiting for you. You let out a breathy chuckle but regretted it when the pain in your head spoke up again, reminding you that you were in agony. 

In the quiet of the flat, you could just about make out the sound of the seagulls at the beach, and the wind that rustled through the air around the flat. Unlike the quiet that had been, this quiet was nice, comforting and warm; like a hug you’d craved for weeks. And mixed with the warm mug in your hands when your tea was finished, you felt freer that you had in a while. 

Rather than head back to your bedroom, you sauntered into the living room where you got comfortable on the sofa by the door. The blanket you’d left there was still hanging over the back so you grabbed it and wrapped yourself back up, letting your eyes fall closed in hopes of easing the headache you were sporting. 

“Just for five minutes,” you whispered to yourself, knowing full well that by the time you woke up your tea would be cold and Taron would more than likely be home. 

****** 

“Y/N?” Taron spoke softly. You groaned quietly and yawned before letting your eyes open a little bit. He was kneeling in front of you with his hand on the sofa by your head and his head cocked to the side as he watched you intently. His eyes were soft but hard, light but dark. As much as he looked like Taron, he didn’t look like himself. There was something about him, a difference you couldn’t quite make out. “How long have you been asleep in here for?” 

Sleep deprivation had caught up to you and you could barely keep your eyes open. It was getting to the point where you were sure you’d need to use matchsticks to keep them open. You’d been well aware that your ‘five minutes’ wouldn’t actually be five minutes but you also knew you needed the sleep. Nothing good ever came out of your mouth when you were sleep deprived. 

“I dunno,” you croaked, attempting to lift your phone from the side of your head to check the time. At some point you’ve moved from your seated position and was instead laying down with your head on the arm. You’d woken up at something past nine but you couldn’t be sure on the time exactly. “An hour or so, probably, maybe...I really don’t know.” 

Taron hummed a breathy chuckle, turning to his left to press the backs of his fingers against your still full mug of tea. Almost as though the temperature would tell him exactly how long you’d been asleep. “Tea’s cold….and you were asleep on the kitchen floor at half seven when I woke up so come, let’s get you back to bed for a few hours, yeah?” 

“You-I...I was- I was asleep on the kitchen floor?” 

Taron nodded, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to help you up off of the sofa, using his other hand to wrap your arms around his neck. “You were. Your back was against the cupboard and your head was in your hands. I thought you were awake but you weren’t responding to me when I called your name. Had to help you get into bed. You...you don’t remember?” 

There was a pang of something in his voice. Hurt? Confusion? Worry? You didn’t know. But whatever it was, it made you feel something deep inside. And just like you didn’t know what laced his voice, you didn’t know how it made you feel. Though you were so incredibly tired that there was no chance that you would ever know. 

The walk through the hallway to your bedroom was slow, your body attempting to give up on you constantly. The way you were feeling was far more than just a lack of sleep. Your body felt like it was failing. Your breaths became shallow again, your eyes wouldn’t stay open, your entire body shook violently and you were ready to pass out. Taron held onto you the entire time, constantly checking how you were doing. 

“I wish you’d have told me you felt like this,” he whispered as he pushed his back into your bedroom door to get you both through. The hand that wrapped around your waist held you tightly, holding you up and guiding you. 

Even as you walked, you were slipping in and out of consciousness, your body going limp against his side as you tried to walk. What should have been a ten second walk to your bedroom took almost five minutes. It worried Taron to see you so zombie like, physically unable to walk a few feet to your bed that still remained unmade from where you’d left it. 

“I tried to call for you…” you whispered, eyes fluttering open and closed as he walked you over to your bed, your head falling forward on your neck as you succumbed to your body’s desire to sleep. “Felt like I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight and...I-I couldn’t talk and it felt like-” 

“Shhh, darling, it’s okay.” Taron reassured. “You don’t have to explain. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there.” 

He helped you into the bed and pulled the covers over your body, sitting on the edge of the mattress so that he could make sure that you were okay. Even though he knew that you weren’t okay in the slightest. It was clear that you weren’t okay. 

“You’re a dick,” you commented, pulling the covers over yourself and turning away from him. Your heart pounded in your chest and your eyes closed for what felt like the millionth time that day. They were heavy and painful and failing you completely. “You weren’t there when I needed you. Haven’t been there for so long.” 

Taron didn’t say anything. He knew that he hadn’t been there for you the way you needed. And he knew that telling you that wouldn’t change anything. He couldn’t take back anything he’d done. He wished he could. He wished that he hadn’t been a dick to start with, that he hadn’t continued to be a dick when you were clearly distressed, that he tried to make you feel like your feelings weren’t valid, that he let you get to the point of stress that you were physically ill. 

A tear fell down his cheek as he took in your almost sleeping figure. Your cheeks sunken from lack of food, your lips dry, the dark circles around your eyes from where you hadn’t been sleeping, your hair that was a matt on top of your head. As he took you in, he saw everything he’d said to you etched into your skin. Every tiny thing that he’d said in the heat of the moment. 

He wanted to reach out to you, to wipe away all of the words, to take back everything that he said. He wanted you to feel okay, to look at him and smile, to know that without you he didn’t know how he would be dealing with lockdown, to have you tell him that everything was going to be okay. 

Not once in the more than twenty years you’d known one another had he seen you look so frail. You were Y/N, the strong one. You were the one who was always up and at ‘em with the biggest smile on your face as you conquered the day. You were the one who wouldn’t let anyone’s words affect you. You were the one who always knew what to say to make things better. 

But there you were that morning, small and fragile under the duvet--that looked as though it was swallowing you--with your face sunken and your arms wrapped around your body. Never before had he seen you look less like yourself than right then. The sparkle in your eyes had gone, your headstrong personality had gone, your warm hugs had gone. You were but a shell of yourself in front of him. And he knew that it was all his fault. 

“Have a good sleep, love,” he choked through a whisper, taking a deep breath before standing up and walking to the bedroom door. 

As his hand touched the door handle to pull it closed, he heard your hoarse voice call from where you lay completely still on the bed, the duvet barely moving with your breathing. “Taron?” 

“Yes love?” 

“Can you wake me up in a couple of hours? Please?” 

Even though you had your back to him and couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling to himself. You could feel the fire in his eyes roar and the expansion of his chest as he took a breath of relief. But it was only a small smile. You could tell by the way he exhaled a breath, through his nose rather than through his lips. 

“Of course I can,” he responded after a few long seconds, sure that you would already be asleep. His lips were dry and starting to get that strange sticky feeling that felt made him grimace and wet them with his lips. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that, the door clicked closed and you were the only person in the room again. Your duvet had been pulled up to your chin when you’d gathered enough strength and your head was deep in the pillows before you. A perfect cocoon, really. A warm, snug place to rest and try to feel better. The curtains were still drawn so the room was dark and the windows were closed so you couldn’t hear the birds screeching outside. It was the perfect way to fall asleep and it didn’t take you long until you were breathing slowly and resting the way you needed to. 

Taron stood in the kitchen, hands gripping the worktop the same way you had the night before. His eyes were squeezed shut as he willed the tears to not fall. He didn’t have the right to cry. Not when you were in bed physically ill from the stress that you’d gone through. The stress he’d caused. He rubbed his eyes angrily as the tears started to fall and his chest tightened. 

But he didn’t feel like he should be allowed to cry. He shouldn’t be allowed to let his feelings out. He should be fixing what he’d done. Fixing the damage that might not ever be able to be fixed. He saw his words etched onto your skin, the things he’d screamed at you when you argued in the living room, the words he hadn’t said when he left you to cry as he sulked in his bedroom. Everything that he said and everything that he didn’t say and everything he wished he hadn’t said and everything he wished he had said. All etched onto your perfect skin. 

He couldn’t breathe, his airways clenched shut allowing not a single drop of oxygen into his lungs. His legs tried to give up from under him as he stared at the draw to his left. The one thing he wanted was in there. He pulled it open forcefully and dug his hand in, reaching all the way to the back until he found them.

A single cigarette and the blue lighter he’d stolen from Richard. 

It would be so easy for him to lift the rolled tobacco to his lips and set the end on fire with the lighter. Far too easy, really. But he wanted to. God did he want to. He craved the taste of smoke, the feel of the paper against his lips as he took drag after drag. The mere thought of taking a puff from the cigarette made his lips curl into a smile. 

But he shouldn’t. Knowing that lighting the cigarette would be the easy way to forget his problems made him cry harder, and louder. Pathetic felt like a word he could use to describe himself, maybe. There were far worse names he could think of for himself but pathetic seemed to stick. Pathetic for letting himself act the way he’d acted. Pathetic for not being there for you when you needed him most. And pathetic for even contemplating having a cig. 

He lifted it to his lips, pressing down on the lighter until the little orange flame appeared so that he could test the waters. A few millimetres more and it’d be lit, allowing him to breathe and relax. But he didn’t light it. He pulled the flame away and took a deep breath. So many thoughts ran around his head as he went to light it again only to pull the flame away just before it caught. He continued the motion a few more times until he grew angry at himself.

With the white roll and lighter still in his hand, he walked into the living room and sat on the floor with his back against the sofa. He didn’t deserve to sit on the sofa. Didn’t deserve to feel comfort when he’d taken all of that away from you. His flat was yours too and he’d filled it with so much negativity that you didn’t feel comfortable. 

With his knees up to his chest and his head against them, the unlit cigarette in one hand and his other tugging his hair tightly, he sobbed, loudly. Echoing sobs that darted around the room over and over again, not slowing down for even a minute. Short, shallow breaths the only thing he could manage as his heart pounded in his ribcage to the point where he thought he’d have a hole through his body at any given second. 

He could hear his sobs, loud and vicious against the otherwise silent flat. As much as he wanted to stop crying and feel okay again, he couldn’t. Everything felt like it was piling on top of him. Like the flat that he called home was caving in. He could see each brick fall to the ground, the safety and comfort of his home becoming nothing but a war zone with rubble everywhere. 

His head felt like he was drowning, like the current was trying to pull him under, rarely letting him up for air. Until it drowned him completely. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were filled with the metaphorical water from the ocean as he screamed for help. But he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He was paralysed on the living room floor tugging at his hair and sobbing into the abyss. 

The knowledge that his best friend was in bed physically ill because of the stress and anxiety he’d caused cut him deeper than anything ever had and he realised that he deserved to feel that way. But you didn’t. You’d done nothing wrong but the night before, when he wasn’t there to help you, you’d gone through the same wave of emotions. Unable to shout for help as you were paralysed on the kitchen floor having the same panic attack he was having. 

With every inhale that he managed, he was exhaling a sob just as fast. He hurt you. He made you sick. He helped your fragile, almost lifeless body into your bedroom and into your bed because you couldn’t move yourself. His words did that. His stupidity. Him. If it weren’t for him, you’d be smiling in the living room with him, nose deep in your laptop as you scrolled Pinterest for new things to cook. 

But you weren’t. He was in the living room on his own, scalp stinging from the vice grip he had on his hair, fingers going numb around the cigarette in his hand and eyes painful from the hot, salty tears. His fingers moved faster than his brain, letting go of his hair and rubbing the area where it hurt before unlocking his phone and clicking his mum’s name. 

The few seconds it took her to answer felt like years. Each ring echoed through Taron as he continued to sob loudly in the living room. It was a miracle that you hadn’t crawled out of your room to tell him to shut up. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. 

“Hiya baby boy, how are you?” Tina’s voice was light as she greeted her son, a beacon of light in the grey room Taron found himself in. Nothing in the room was actually grey but he didn’t see colour. He could only see a dark, terrifying darkness that enveloped him wholly. 

“I fucked up mum,” he choked, the hand with the cigarette gripping his hair again. Only this time it was harder, like he wanted to feel the pain from it. 

Tina knew what he meant. How could she not after her conversation with you the night before? She knew that he’d fucked up before he knew that he’d fucked up. “There’s still time to fix it, darling boy. You just have to talk to her rather than blow her off.” 

“There isn’t time!” he whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake you up but wanting to make his mum know how serious the situation was. “She’s ill and it’s all my fault. She’s ill because of how stupid I’ve been. I’ve fucked up, mum, proper bad this time. What do I do?”

He could hear his mum sigh through the phone but he was focussed on the tears that fell from his cheeks and landed on the floor below him, the wet patch getting bigger the longer he sat there. His lungs were still struggling to get enough oxygen and he could feel himself growing dizzy. But he needed to know how to fix everything. How to take everything he’d said back. 

“I wish I could tell you what to do,” she breathed, her voice no longer as light as it had been when she answered the phone, “but you’re the one who started this and you need to be the one to figure this out. There are times when you have to take responsibility for your actions and this is one of those times.” 

“Mum please!” He begged, his body rocking forwards and backwards as he struggled to ground himself. Nothing felt real. It was like he was looking at himself curled on the ground rocking, that he was in a twisted dream. Except it was reality. “I fucked up. I fucked up and she’s never going to forgive me. Tell me what I need to do to make this better. Please mum, I’m begging you. Please.”

“Taron, sweetie, breathe for me. Three deep breaths, come on,” Tina offered, guiding him through the breaths and then guiding him through three more. “Do you want to do more?” 

“Please.” 

“Okay then five more.” 

They breathed together until Taron could focus on the room again. Until the walls were built fully and until he could breathe a little easier. He took a look at the cigarette that he’d dropped to the floor and scoffed in disgust, breaking it in half and throwing it in the bin by the sofa. 

“What do I do, mum?” 

“I wish I could tell you,” she said sorrowfully, “but only you can fix this. As your mum it’s my job to protect you and look after you but it’s also my job to make sure you’re taking responsibility for your actions. Y/N told me what’s been going on and quite frankly I’m a little disappointed in you, Taron.” 

His heart dropped to the ground and shattered into a million pieces before him. He could take her being mad at him but for her to openly admit to him that she was disappointed was something else entirely. It broke him, pulled him apart piece by piece as he let her words dance around his head. She was disappointed. Disappointed in him and his actions. And it hurt like hell. 

“I’m so sorry mum,” he choked, wiping his eyes harshly as he let out another almighty sob. Part of him wondered if you’d woken up from him sobbing but he also saw how quickly you fell asleep so he wasn’t so sure. “I let you down and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Tina sighed, “I forgive you, you know that I always will but that doesn’t mean I’m any less disappointed in you. You’ve let Y/N down, Taron. You opened your flat to her, asked her to stay with you during lockdown. That flat is her safe space while she can’t see her mum and dad and you’ve taken that away from her...you need to make this right.” 

“I know, I know. I heard your conversation last night…” Taron trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his jeans as he took shaky breaths. His head felt heavy and he still found it difficult to breathe but he was getting there. 

“So you know that she was thinking about going to her mum’s house?” 

Taron nodded, forgetting for a moment that his mum couldn’t see him through the phone. “Yeah, yeah I heard it...I’ve really messed up this time haven’t I? I’ve really hurt her, mum.” 

“There’s time to fix it but, Taron, I have to ask something. Why have you been acting the way you have?” 

“I don’t even know,” he responded honestly. “I don’t know what happened. I was fine and then I wasn’t and now...now all this has happened and it’s all my fault. I love her, mum. I don’t want to hurt her.” 

Taron could hear Tina take a deep breath, her forefinger and thumb no doubt pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to think of something that she could tell him. “I know you do and I won’t lie and tell you that you haven’t hurt her. She was hurt last night and I’ve never heard her so hurt. There is time to fix it. But you can’t do that when you’re on the phone to me. Keep breathing, have some water and do whatever it takes. I love you, son.” 

“I love you too. Thank you. And I really am sorry.” 

“Bye, Taron.” 

****** 

The room was still dark when you woke up to Taron’s gentle knocks on the door echoing through the room. You still felt like crap but you didn’t feel quite as physically exhausted. Though your muscles definitely felt the effects of sleeping on a tiled floor for however many hours. 

“Am I alright to come in, love?” Taron asked softly, sniffing as he pushed the door open slightly. You hummed a response as you lifted yourself slowly into a seated position which you regretted when you went a little dizzy. “How are you feeling now?” 

“Rough,” you chuckled, rubbing your eyes and taking a few seconds to let them refocus. You could just about make out the frown on Taron’s face but he did well to hide it before you could see properly. “Are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying.” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he rushed out gulping and smiling as he walked over to you and sat on the bed. The mattress dipped next to you and you almost toppled over but Taron gripped your arms to steady you. “Do you feel strong enough to sit in a bath? I’ve run you one and got you some tea and water to drink and hydrate with. If you’re not feeling it then I can go and empty it.” 

Even though you weren’t sure why he was being nice all of a sudden, you smiled weakly at him. He might have been an insufferable prick and he might have caused you unnecessary stress over a few days but he was still so thoughtful. 

“I think I could manage,” you whispered, reaching your hand out to grab his delicately. “I just hope it’s not too deep because I genuinely feel like I could fall asleep again.” 

Taron joined you in a soft chuckle but he stopped pretty quickly, taking in your face properly. You looked ill and it broke him all over again. “I’ll help you get into the bathroom and then you can tell me if I need to take some water out, okay?” 

“Thank you.” 

With your right hand you threw the covers away from your body and started to turn slightly. Taron was there to help but you wanted to do it yourself. You felt stronger than you had before but you were grateful for his help. When he wasn’t looking, you smiled to yourself, feeling like maybe you were getting Taron back slowly. 

Unlike the walk from the living room to your bedroom, it only took you a few seconds longer than normal to get to the bathroom, your steps more than a tiny shuffle. And you managed to keep your eyes open the entire time. It felt good to feel better, even if you still felt like shit. Taron held your waist again, letting you lean against his frame as you walked to the room across the hall, the door ajar. 

“Taron,” you breathed when he pushed the door open. 

When he’d told you he’d run you a bath you expected a bit of water in the bath and that’s it. But he’d gone all out, filling the white porcelain tub with bubbles and had lined candles up for you to enjoy the faint light rather than the overly antiseptic feel of the normal light. He’d closed the blind so that it was dark, and had left you a mug of tea, a glass of water and a bath bomb on the tray that sat across the bath. And to top it off, there was spa music playing from the speaker he’d taken in. 

“I thought you could do with a bit of a relax,” he offered, leading you in and sitting you on the closed lid of the toilet. “Do you need any of the water taking out?” 

You looked at the water in the tub, steam rising from the surface of it. “A little, if that’s okay? I just don’t want to risk anything with how I’m feeling.” 

“Totally okay,” he smiled, rushing to dip his hand in the water to pull the plug out. Though the heat of the water caused him to pull his hand out fast, dripping water on the floor. “Shit that’s hotter than I thought.” 

You stifled a laugh with your hand over your mouth and Taron turned to you with raised eyebrows. “I bet if I got in there now I’d think it was just right.” 

“I’ve gotten in the shower after you’ve been in. I wouldn’t be surprised if you thought this was bloody cold.” 

The light banter that flowed from you both eased you more. Your heart felt light, your head felt light and the flat felt light. The cloud of tension had parted for a second, allowing you to see everything that you’d been missing. Allowing you to see the things that you wanted again. 

“Probably. If it’s too hot for you just leave it and I’ll try my best to stay awake. Though I feel like we might need to change this music for that to happen.” 

Taron nodded, dipping his hand back into the bath and pulling the plug out quickly. “Ooh fuck that really is hot.” 

You shook your head at him slowly, rubbing the crusty sleep that’d formed in the corner of your eyes away. “You do realise that the water won’t magically turn to children’s temperature for you, right?” 

“Oh hush it, you. I’m a man, I can handle a bit of heat…” 

“Put the plug back in then,” you challenged, watching the colour drain from his face as he looked at the plug in his hands. “You hadn’t thought of that, had you?” 

He scoffed playfully, “of course I did. I’m not that daft.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

The room fell quiet again then, the only sounds being the music playing next to you and the water draining out of the bath. Until you could hear the water splash as Taron put the plug back in, pulling his hand out just as fast as he’d put it in trying not to swear. He watched you as you tried not to laugh at him, your lips rolled into your mouth as you stared at him. 

“I know you’re trying not to laugh. But I’ll let you off. What music do you want? It’s connected to my phone so you can pick whatever.” 

You thought for a minute, running through all of the artists you liked the most in your head until you thought of one that you liked most. “I’m feeling Queen.” 

Taron nodded in agreement and put your chosen music on for you, opening the bathroom door and taking a step out. “Oh, I could really do with talking to you when you’re done, if that’s okay?” 

Despite the gut churning anxiety rippling through your body at the words that were practically “we need to talk”, you nodded with a smile. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“Thank you, love. Anyway, have a nice bath, I’ll be in the living room whenever you’re ready.” 

****** 

The bath was very much needed and made you feel so much better. Though you still weren’t 100%, obviously. But it was something. The steam cleared your airways and made it easier to breathe, the heat of the water relaxed your muscles and gave them time to start repairing the damage caused from the floor and the music helped clear your mind. 

Thankfully you hadn’t fallen asleep during the hour and a bit that you’d been submerged in the water but you were so relaxed after getting out that it took everything in your power to not climb back into bed. When you got back into your bedroom, your bed was made and your phone was charging on the table next to your pillow. You smiled, knowing that Taron must have made it for you. 

On the end of the bed was a pair of your pyjamas that had been in the wash but that he’d clearly left out for you. A simple pair of black cotton bottoms with gold stars and moons printed on them and a plain black t-shirt with the same starry pattern on a pocket on the left breast area. Along with the pyjamas, he’d left one of his hoodies and a note that said ‘just in case x’. 

It wasn’t cold enough for the hoodie but you would take it into the living room with you, just in case. But the pyjamas were greatly appreciated. So after grabbing some clean underwear from the top drawer, you dried yourself, moisturised and got yourself comfortable. It wasn’t even lunchtime and it felt strange to not be putting ‘real’ clothes on as you’d branded them but you knew it was needed. 

If you so much as attempted to leave the flat you’d regret it. So you gladly put your pyjamas on and slid your socked feet into the slippers by the side of your bed. As you walked through the hall, you could smell the smoke from the candles--that you’d properly blown out and double checked that they were out. 

Taron sat in the living room on the floor with his back against the sofa, and coincidentally away from you. But you could see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he cried quietly. You rushed to his side the best you could and bent down to kneel next to him, dropping the hoodie to the floor and putting a hand on his in hopes that he would look at you. 

“Taron, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, dropping his head into his hands as you simultaneously pulled him into your body. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was a dick and I’ve made you ill and-” 

“Shhh, Taron,” You hummed, rocking him gently as he moved one hand to grip the back of your t-shirt. “It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay.” 

“It’s not okay. I was a dick, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He held onto you tightly, even when you shifted yourself so that you weren’t resting all of your weight on your knees. “I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes closed as you breathed slowly. You’d waited for an apology from him for so long but that just broke your heart. Knowing that he knew he’d fucked up and that he was so cut up broke your heart. 

“Are you going to tell me why this whole thing started?” You asked, pushing him away from you enough that you could look at his face. 

Red-rimmed eyes looked back at you, eyelids hooded and cheeks stained with tears. His eyes told you just how sorry he was. The usual bright green duller than ever before without the beautiful gleam that was always there. His entire bottom lash line was pooled with the tears and you reached your thumb out to wipe them away, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your skin as his eyes closed. 

“I...I...god I’m gonna seem like such a dick.” 

“Tell me, Taron,” you spoke, voice stern as you wiped more tears. It pained you that he was so upset but you needed to know why he’d started acting like such a twat before. For your own piece of mind. “Please,” you added. 

Taron took a deep breath, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “I was going to...going to tell you something about how I felt but then you started talking and…” 

You could barely believe what you were hearing. “Hold on a second. This whole thing started because I started talking just as you were going to talk?” Taron nodded sheepishly and you let go of his body, scooting backwards and staring at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I told you it was going to make me sound like a dick,” he whispered. “I just felt like you didn’t care about how I felt and I was pathetic and took my own frustrations out on you rather than talking to you like a grown up. And I’ve caused you so much pain and anger and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Last night when I came into the kitchen…” 

“I’d heard your conversation with my mum-but I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping! It hit me that in all of my selfishness, I hadn’t once stopped to consider how I’d been treating you and your feelings. So when you came in, I was crying because I couldn’t get my brain to shut up and...well...I still acted like a dick.” 

The sigh that left you echoed throughout the whole room. “Did you hear me crying last night?” Taron nodded, his head hung low as though he knew how you were going to react. “You heard me sobbing and having a fucking panic attack and you didn’t try to help me? You let me suffer on the floor unable to move because I couldn’t breathe?” 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m so so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, really not wanting to blame him.

Taron looked up at you in disbelief. “It’s far from okay! I left you when you needed me the most. I left you to suffer having a panic attack. I should have been there!” 

Your arms wrapped around him again, holding him extra tight as he sobbed into you. Slowly but surely your own tears fell from your eyes as he gripped you just as tightly. The sound of your sobs mixed together until they sounded like one sob, filling the room and no doubt travelling through to the other flats around you. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked holding you as though he was scared you’d disappear if he let go. 

“I’m sorry,” you responded. “I’m sorry for not asking you how you were. And for assuming that you were just being a dickhead. I should have asked.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: explicit language, animal product consumption, alcohol consumption, smut.

The front door swung forward before you could stop it, slamming against the wall behind it before making its way back to you, But with the carrier bags in your hands from you quick shop, you couldn’t just reach forward to stop it from launching at you, so you had to let it hit against your arm. You hissed at the contact but pushed it open so that you were standing firmly in the hallway. 

To the right was the door to the living room and straight away was the kitchen. You knew that Taron was in there as there was the gentle sound of him singing coming from that direction. That and the kitchen door was open giving you a perfect view of him dancing around the room with a dish cloth in one hand and a bottle of antibacterial spray in the other. A black cap sat tight on his head and a light grey long-sleeved t-shirt was taught against his body as he danced, his feet bare and slapping against the linoleum in the room. 

“I got some money ‘cause I just got paid,” he sang along to Sam Cooke, shaking his hips with his knees bent as though he belonged to the 60s, shoulders shimmying at the same time as he used the kitchen floor as his dance floor. “Oh how I had some chick to talk to.” 

The very corners of your lips lifted in a giant grin, thankful that the tension that had been suffocating you for a while had finally disappeared. No longer did you feel suffocated in the house, longer did you use hushed whispers on the phone around him, no longer did you poke your head out of your bedroom door to see if he was up or not and no longer were you scared to sit in the living room. 

It had only been a couple of days since you’d both held one another in the living room with your sobs the only sound echoing through the room. You’d spent hours on end sobbing your apologies and holding onto one another tightly. In the end you wound up with Taron’s head in your lap as he curled up and held on you with your fingers running through his hair. 

Things had started to slip back into regular programming after that. Slowly but surely, things were moving forward. And you were so glad that you were back to normal. Taron offered to make yo tea and breakfast when he was awake, he would walk next to you on your daily walks to the hill that overlooked the ocean, he moved his work into the living room and would sit and do your puzzle with you at the kitchen table after dinner. 

“Am I not a chick now?” You called out to him, laughing as you squeezed your way through the doorway to find him looking at you, eyebrows raised as he continued to wiggle his body to the music. “And why the hell are you wearing a cap inside?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugged, taking the shopping bags from your hands so that he could start to disinfect the packaging, “I just felt like wearing a cap. Took a while today, didn’t it?” 

You hummed, spreading your hands in front of you and the contrast from the red of your fingers and palms and the colour of your arms freaked you slightly. Of course, you knew that the bags had been heavy as you had to fill the cupboards again but you hadn’t realised just how heavy. Your knuckles were tight as you bent them and opened them again. Taron had already started to unpack them on the countertop but refused to stop talking. 

“The line was horrendous,” you replied after a while, rubbing your hands together clenching and releasing your fists to try and ease the pain in them. From where you stood you could perfectly see the back of Taron’s head which had you furrowing your brows at him. “Taron...why isn’t there a tuft of hair poking out from the back of your hat?” 

His shoulders tensed as he stilled his actions from cleaning our food products, putting the cloth and spray down before spinning on his foot to face you, the screech of his skin on the tiled floor going through you and igniting goosebumps over your skin. The look he gave you was one you’d not seen in a while; his hand over his shoulder scratching the back of his head as he tried to think of the words needed to explain something. 

You gave him a few seconds but when he came up short, you lifted your hand to the underside of the front piece of his cap and flicked it away from his head. It took you a second to see it, even though it slapped you in the face as soon as you looked at him. He smiled at you sheepishly as you squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again just to double check that you weren’t seeing things. 

“Umm…you have-you have no hair…” you trailed off. No longer could you see the glorious locks you loved on him. Instead, you were greeted by a shiny head with absolutely no speck of hair at all. Taron nodded, trying to figure out whether it would be appropriate to laugh at your reaction or not. Your head cocked the left as you licked your bottom lip into your mouth slowly before holding it in place with your teeth and pursing your lips. “I’m...wha...why did you shave it?” 

Taron couldn’t decipher how you felt about the hair change but if you were to tell the truth, you yourself had no clue how you felt. It wasn’t a bad change and unlike some, he managed to pull it off perfectly. But it was different. That’s it. It was different and definitely not what you were expecting to see after a rather stressful trip to Asda. 

“I don’t know when I’ll get to see my barber again,” he shrugged as though it was nothing, scratching the top of his head as you waited for him to continue, knowing that he wasn’t done. “And it was getting a bit long, wasn’t it?” 

“I do know how trim hair!” You exclaimed, running your hand over the freshly exposed skin and widening your eyes once again, leaving Taron smiling at you. “You haven’t just shaved it...you’ve taken a bloody razor to it!”

Finally, as if the humour of the situation had hit you, your lips quirked up into a gentle smile. A giggle escaped you as you stared at him in bewilderment, his head warm against the pads of your fingers. He nodded with a smile that mirrored your own, the skin of your hand smooth against his scalp. It was quiet for a little while, the two of you taking one another in as you got used to seeing your best friend without any hair on his head.

“I wanted a fresh start too,” he continued after your little moment of quiet, holding your wrist delicately so that he could lower your hand away from his hand to press against the left side of his chest. He was warm under your touch and you could feel the gentle thump of his heart. “You know...after everything the other day.” 

“Taron,” you breathed, your shoulders slumped as you sighed sadly up at him, pressing your hand further against his chest, “please stop beating yourself up about that. You’re good, I’m good, we’re good. What happened the other day doesn’t matter now. What matters is the fact that you’re literally asking for the ‘Eggerton’ comments that will come from this livestream tonight.” 

It was Taron who laughed first. An almighty belly laughed that rippled through his whole body before drowning out the sound of The Strokes that were playing loudly in the room. Apparently he’d put his music on shuffle. Hearing him laugh so soon after feeling rubbish made you sigh happily instead, his heartbeat picking up against your hand as you joined in and laughed yourself. The mere thought of the comments he would no doubt get kept you laughing. 

“You really are asking for those comments though,” you spoke when you were able to breath, removing your hand from his chest as you looked at him seriously. “Taron Eggerton is here, ladies and gentlemen.” 

Taron nodded with a cheeky smile and it took less than a second for your brain to register the fact that you were about to witness what would potentially be the worst joke you’d ever heard. “That he is. But I wonder how they’ll want me. How do you want me? Fried, scrambled, boiled, poached?”

With a playful scoff, you lifted your hand back to his chest to swat him, your heart warming as you breathed deeply and laughed with him. The flat felt good again; bright and happy without even a smidgen of grey. There wasn’t a cloud of tension everywhere you went and you didn’t feel like the comfort and safety you needed were being stripped from you anymore. You were able to laugh together again and could joke together. And not to mention that you could have real conversations again. It was nice, for lack of a better word. 

“Or devilled?” He added through a wink, thinking that he’d won whatever little back and forth you were having. 

“You’re already the bloody devil. You didn’t need to shave your head for that,” You quipped back without missing a single beat. Taron swatted your arm as you moved to get away from him, lips turned up into a huge grin as you walked backwards out of the room and towards the bathroom for a shower. “Put your egg head to work and sort the food that I just went and bought for us.”

You could faintly hear Taron telling you to, “fuck off” through a laugh and you smiled, turning around so that you could see where you were walking after almost knocking the entry table over. There was a towel already heating up on the radiator for you so all you had to do was twist the tap to turn the shower on and wait for it to heat up. But as you stood and looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt bad for reacting the way you did when you first saw his hair. 

So, just as quickly as you turned the shower on, you turned it back off and headed back to the kitchen. Taron stood with his back to you once again as he cleaned the packaging of the food you’d bought. When you were behind him, you wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your front tight against his back, inhaling his scent and holding him tightly. 

“I love it,” you whispered and Taron knew that you were talking about his hair. “Going to have to make sure that we’re putting suncream on it when we go out though, as well as your hat.” 

Taron hummed, turning around the best he could in your arms so that he was facing you, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you against him properly. He swayed you from side to side to the music still playing. Love Of My Life seemed like a funny song to be swaying in the kitchen with your best friend but it was nice to take a few minutes to take him in. You could feel the slight chill of the floor through your socks and you wondered how Taron’s feet weren’t literal ice blocks from standing bare footed.

Things seemed to fall into place when you hugged Taron and you still weren’t 100% sure as to why. You could be having the worst day of your life but as soon as Taron’s arms were wrapped around you, you felt so at peace and could breathe easily. Which is what made the few days you weren’t talking to one another so hard. You didn’t have the security of his arms around your body as he calmed you down. 

“I know you keep telling me to stop doing this but i am-” 

And just like that, the calm was disappearing and you were rolling your eyes. 

“Taron I swear to god if you apologise one more bloody time…” you warned, pulling your head back so you could look him in the eyes properly. He looked at you through his eyelashes, sticking his tongue into his cheek to stifle a laugh. 

“Fine,” he breathed finally, pulling you into him again, “I’ll not say it. But know that I want to. Really bad.” 

He rested his forehead against your, his hands firmly on your his as he looked at you softly. There was a glint in his eye you’d never noticed before but it was nice to see it. Your hands were restless on his body, moving from his middle to his hips, moving up his arms where you rubbed his biceps before moving back to his hips. 

Taron chuckled at you and moved your hands so that they were wrapped around his waist all without moving his head away from yours. His eyes fell closed as he breathed in your warmth, stopping the two of you from swaying 

Taron chuckled and moved your hands so they were wrapped around his waist, his eyes falling closed as he breathed in your warmth. It felt nice to spend time with him without worrying about anything else. To be wholly together even for just a few moments in the kitchen. You let your own eyes fall closed to take everything in but when you opened them again you were taken by surprise. 

His eyes dilated before your own eyes, all the way until there was very little of the beautiful greeny hazel left. And as he looked at you completely, he held your hips in place and pulled you forward so that your chests were flush. You were scared that he would be able to feel the undeniably erratic rate of your heart as it thumped against our chest. 

His right hand trailed up the length of your polyester sleeve and you were grateful that he wouldn’t be able to feel the goosebumps that rose on your arm. He let his arm trail up your arm until he could cup your cheek gracefully, looking you in the eyes asking for permission. With your lips turned into a shy smile, you nodded lightly, taking a shaky breath and watching him intently. 

He was all consuming and not enough all at the same time. You wanted to push him away but pull him closer to you simultaneously. He smelled so good. Warm and comforting and just plain Taron. But something was different. It was as though you were seeing him for the first time, the butterflies in your tummy erupting into a frenzy that you couldn’t control. His breath fanned against our cupid’s bow and you could smell the coffee and the chewing gum on his breath but you didn’t mind. 

Especially when his lips moved forward so that they were millimeters away from yours. You could feel his eyelashes against the top of your cheeks when he tilted his head slightly, his nose brushing against yours as he squeezed you against his body. Your breath caught in your throat at the realisation of what was going on, your hands holding him to you tighter as though he would disappear into thin air should you let him go. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he groaned when his phone vibrated loudly against the worktop. It rang through your ears as you pushed yourself away from Taron, taking a deep breath and pulling the hem of your jumper down so that none of your skin was on show. “My mam, I swear.

You let out a little chuckle at his choice of words, pulling the fridge open to start putting the cold foods away. Of course, they should have been the first to be done but things never happened how they were meant to in the flat. When you put the milk in the door tray, you closed your eyes and exhaled a breath, thankful that Taron was far too busy answering his phone to hear you. 

“Hi mam,” he stuttered, completely out of breath despite not actually having kissed you. “Yeah, yeah I’m ummm, I’m fine. What’s up?” 

Taron might have been too busy with his mum on the phone but your mind was racing. Were you truly about to kiss Taron? Your best friend of over twenty years. What would have happened if his mum hadn’t called him and he’d leaned forward just the tiniest amount to the point where your lips would be touching? You wanted him to kiss you, that much was for certain, but you didn’t know why. Taron was Taron, the guy you went to with boy troubles, the guy you went to when you needed to destress after work over a glass of wine and whatever soppy film he decided to put on. 

What would a kiss have meant for that? Would it have ruined your friendship? Did he want more than a friendship? Did you want more than a friendship? What would happen if you were in a relationship? Would your friendship make it through that? Was the only reason you were close to kissing because you had no other human interaction during lockdown and you were craving the feel of something? 

Your mind wouldn’t shut up and it didn’t help that you could hear your heart pounding in your ears, drowning out whatever conversation Taron was having with his mum on the phone. He was standing with his bum against the dining table and was nodding his head, playfully rolling your eyes when you turned to him. You breathed a laugh at him before motioning to the bathroom. He nodded with a little wink and off you went to take a shower and wash away all of the thoughts running in your head. 

****** 

You weren’t sure how his laptop was still standing, in all honesty. An empty Quality Street tin sat atop your puzzle on the dining table, a tea towel under it to protect your project, with his laptop balanced on a box on top of the tin. It was all a little dodgy looking and you were pretty sure that as soon as the table moved his laptop would topple and it’d be a mess. But Taron insisted. Insisted that it would be okay and that he’s got it. 

Of course, you shook your head at him with a laugh and told him to enjoy picking it up when everything toppled. While he was doing the livestream, you were going to make dinner for the two of you, something that he was extremely grateful for. You had asked him if he’d rather you go to the living room or your bedroom while he chatted, making sure that he knew you would be okay doing either. But he wanted you there with him. 

“It’ll make me feel a little more comfortable with you being there,” he’d commented, holding your hand in his and giving you one of his signature smiles. 

You reciprocated his smile, gave him an awkward side hug and got to work getting everything ready to cook. And just before he went live, you handed him a balloon glass with some beer in for him to drink. He turned to you and smiled but there was something else behind it. Ever since your almost kiss earlier in the afternoon, things had been a little awkward. The both of you had laughed off the fact that his mum just had to call at that point--just to tell him that the strawberry seeds she’d planted were starting to flower and that she couldn’t wait to eat them when they were ready to harvest which was sweet but slightly annoyingly timed.

All while he’d been getting ready for the livestream, taking a shower and changing out of his grey t-shirt, you’d been holed in the living room overthinking the entire situation. With your laptop open on an empty Google Doc, you tried to voice how you felt that way but you literally couldn’t type anything. There were far too many questions running around your head that answers just weren’t happening. 

It didn’t help in the slightest that neither of you talked about it. Neither of you wanted to be the first person to bring it up, scared that it didn’t mean the same to the other person. Which when you thought about it was silly really. You weren’t ever going to know how the other person felt if you didn’t talk about it. Not to mention the fact that you both went in for the kiss so surely there were feelings in common.

“Okay, I’m going on in a second,” he spoke gently, putting his airpods into his ears and checking that the laptop camera was at a good angle. 

“You really should give those airpods back to Richard at some point,” you joked which earned you his middle finger. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Good luck.” 

You could clearly see him go through the stages of getting ready for something work related. You’d spent years watching him. He rolled his shoulders, breathing out of his mouth in short sharp bursts with his cheeks puffed up as he psyched himself up. Until he was live and his smile returned and he radiated confidence and positivity. He truly was exuberant. 

“Excuse my rather frightening haircut,” he laughed after greeting Matt, his hand rubbing the top of his head as you tried to stifle your laughter from where you stood a few feet away. 

“Eggerton,” you whispered, chopping the tails of the asparagus off and placing the long stems onto the grilling tray next to you. You were trying to be hushed as you worked but it was hard when you were trying to cook. 

“I umm,” Taron continued, chuckling nervously, “I thought I’d share it with the world. How’re you doing?” 

The knife slipped from your hand onto the chopping board below as you watched Taron blush from his seat after being thanked for being one of the celebrities who got others involved just by his name. You hadn’t caught what Matt said properly but you caught the gist. And whatever it was, Taron was at a loss for words. You couldn’t help but smile at him and his inability to compute people thanking him for making something happen. 

But it had always been the same. He could have done something insanely helpful or planned something huge but he would never take credit. There was always a way for him to put it down to a team effort. It was one of the many things that you admired about him, even though at times it was the most annoying thing because he wouldn’t ever allow anyone to thank him personally. 

It wasn’t until he mentioned his grandmother that your attention was taken away from the food in front of you, the fish sitting in the spicy rub you’d made for it. The mention of the woman who treated you like you were one of her grandchildren, who let you sleep over at the weekends when Taron and his cousins slept over, who taught you to cook the meals your mum didn’t know and who was always there for you made you emotional. Your lips pursed to the right as you gulped down a lump in your throat. 

Taron talked about her with a smile on his face, thanking the NHS for all of their help but when he turned to you for a second, you could see the pain behind his eyes. The grief he still felt for her was completely understandable. You still grieved the loss of your grandma and not a day went by that you didn’t think of her and the amazing things she did. 

The temptation to throw a potato at his head when he leaned back in his chair was high, the side of his head in perfect line. But you refrained, shaking your head while you listen to him talk about what he’s getting up to in isolation. 

“I’m trying to fill the days,” he said with a chuckle. “Trying to put a bit of structure into the day. It’s a Friday,” he said as he grabbed the glass you’d given to him, holding it between both of his hands in front of him as he nodded towards Matt to the left of his laptop screen.

“I was quite impressed to see you’re not drinking…” he went on about how he was trying to be strict about not drinking Monday through Thursday and you scoff a laugh at him which you were sure would be heard on the video. It was only three days before, on Tuesday night, that he’d had a skinful and fell asleep on the sofa with a beer bottle in hand; something that reminded you of being younger. 

Which fit perfectly when he started talking about ‘back in the day’ and buying bottles of bacardi breezer in the club on the pier for a mere £1. The memory had the corners of our lips tilting up into a smile and you wished that you could be stumbling home with one arm wrapped around Taron’s neck and the other holding onto a bottle of alcohol you’d snuck out of the club singing classic noughties songs at the top of your lungs before going home and trying to sneak some of your parent’s liquor. 

Those were the memories that you would hold close to your heart forever. They were the memories that you held close to your heart because you didn’t know they were going to be the last time you did them until it was too late. You always thought that there’d be more, more days on the beach eating chips out of a newspaper cone, more nights sitting on the pier with your legs dangling as you cradled a glass of alcohol and rested your head on Taron’s shoulder and more nights to just be young. 

The older you got, the more you appreciated the little things in life. Sunday brunches in the city with your friends from work were never taken for granted, the mornings where you enjoyed your coffee outside with the breeze flowing through you clothes and hair were spent with your eyes closed in bliss and the times when you were able to sleep in and wake up at our own pace were your absolute favourites. 

Taron continued being the most amazing person for the camera, his hands flailing around the place as he laughed and joked before getting serious again. And as you waited for the rest of the food to cook, you pulled your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and searched his name into Instagram. Of course, there were a few funny comments about his new hair, or lack thereof and you even saved a couple to show him later. 

But you didn’t delve too far into the tag because you knew that the further you went, the more the comments would turn to those of which you didn’t want to see. And Taron wouldn’t want you to read them either because they did nothing good for either of you. So, after a few minutes, you came away from the tag and took a video of the food in the pans with a cute filter that you could share. 

When Taron was finished on the livestream, he exhaled loudly and sat himself back on the chair, stretching his neck and groaning to himself. “I can’t lie, I was nervous so now I’m kinda glad that it’s over.” 

“Nervous?” You asked gently, pouring two glasses of wine ready to plate the food. 

“Yes, nervous,” he laughed, closing his laptop and clearing the table for you. “I’m used to pre-recording videos that I can take again if I need to. I’m not used to this live stuff…” 

You laughed at him, knowing full well that he didn’t mind doing things live normally. “You’re such a bullshitter.” 

He laughed, “potentially. But I was still nervous. What smells so good, anyway?” 

Sliding his plate in front of him, you rested your head against his gently. “You did amazing, as usual. And we’ve got spicy, crispy salmon with grilled asparagus and steamed veggies finished off with a homemade lemon butter sauce, just how I know you like it. And a nice glass of Marsanne for the side.” 

“Oh you are the most amazing woman I know!” He exclaimed, taking the wine from your hands so that you could get your own plate from its place beside the oven. “Thank you, angel. Truly, thank you.”

******

There was a sheen of sweat covering your body as you lay under Taron. The left side of his body lowered onto your right side, one of his hands keeping him up and the other on your waist, gripping tightly. He left a trail of goosebumps as he raked his fingertips up under your (well, his) t-shirt and up your body until he could circle your nipple all while his lips found purchase on your neck and exposed collarbones. 

When his teeth grazed over your skin at the same time he pinched your nipple simply to feel you gasp against him, he let his tongue flatten over the skin afterwards to soothe the area. Fingers ran through the tendrils of hair that sat on his head, tugging tightly as you breathed his name into the air around you and the light sound of his chuckled echoed throughout the room as the vibrations from his lips rippled through your body. 

His palm flattened over your left breast, massaging it gently as he kissed up your neck to your lips. Your kisses were hungry and full of lust, saying all the things you couldn’t quite put into words. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you and you couldn’t believe that it had taken you both so long to get to that point. 

Each second that passed felt like a lifetime and the arousal building between your legs seemed to intensify with each of those eternal seconds. Taron was everywhere. He was kissing you, he was touching you, he was hovering over you. He was everywhere but you loved it. You could smell him, all freshly showered and musky as he swiped his tongue against yours at the same time that he squeezed your breast. 

He swallowed the moan that came riproaring through you as you pushed your hips forward against his in hopes that he would finally give in and give you what you wanted; what you both wanted. But he didn’t. And you whined when he rolled over you more to press your hips back down into the mattress, his bulging length pressing against you deliciously. 

“Shhh baby, it’s okay. I’ll get there,” he whispered, peppering kisses all over your face until you giggled under him. 

He twisted your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, smirking to himself when you moaned loudly, your head rolling back on your neck into the plush pillows below you. Taron took the opportunity to suction an earth-shattering kiss to the base of your throat, drawing yet another moan from your swollen lips. 

“Gonna let me taste you?” He asked gently, pulling his lips away from you enough that he could make eye contact with you properly, his eyelashes fluttering against his eyebrow bone.“Sorry, can I? Can I taste you? Please?”

“God yes,” you moan, nodding furiously as he inches your top up your body until he could peel it away from you completely. He took your top half in properly, eyeing every curve that you tried to hide with your arms. 

But he wasn’t having that. Taron wanted to see you completely, all of you. “Hey, you’re beautiful, alright? Curves and ‘rolls’ and all.” 

You didn’t get to say anything else was his tongue swirled around your nipple. Never before had anyone made you feel so good without actually touching you properly. Taron was skilled, knowing exactly what to do to get you writhing under him. Especially when he kissed his way down your body until his nose nudged your mound and his lips ghosted your folds. As if you reassure you, he grabbed your right hand and held it tightly in his next to your hip, looking up at you and winking softly.

Spreading you open, you could feel his breath on your heat right before he-

You shot forward in the bed, shoving your duvet away from you at the same time. A light sheen of sweat covered your entire body and stuck the t-shirt you were wearing--that you’d stolen from Taron--to your skin. You could see your heart thumping in your chest as you struggled to catch your breath, your forearm resting over your head as you breathed deeply. 

You hunched over in your spot, hands on your knees as you tried to relax yourself. But it was no use. The images of your dream played over and over like a broken record until you couldn’t take it anymore. You could feel Taron’s lips on your neck as you climbed out of the bed and towards the door to go to the bathroom.The only thing you needed was cold water splashed against your face. 

You pulled the door open at snail pace, scrunching your entire face up when it reached the point where it would normally start to creak. Though thankfully it didn’t and you were able to pull it open without any issues. Rather than stepping straight out into the hallway and risk Taron being around and seeing your intense look; dishevelled hair atop your head and beads of sweat on your face, you peered out and listened. 

It was quiet so you stepped out of your room and waited again just to make sure that Taron wasn’t around at the ungodly hour doing god knows what. That’s when you heard it. A soft, noiseless moan coming from his bedroom. Or at least you thought it was a moan. He could have mumbled in his sleep like he always did or he could have been watching a film. 

But then you heard the sound of his mattress creaking under his weight and his ragged breaths. “Mmm, yeah, just like that baby,” he mumbled. You knew that it was Taron as the voice held the same low timbre of his and it was just as velvety against your eardrums. 

The bathroom was a mere three steps away from where you stood but you were paralysed in your place. No matter how much you could have done with the cold water against your heat stricken skin, you couldn’t move. Your feet were stuck in their place on the plush carpet of the hallway with your toes curling into it as you held and arm out to your left to rest against the doorframe. 

You didn’t want to be there, in such an awkward place while you heard whatever Taron was doing, but you physically couldn’t move. Not even a tiny bit. 

“Don’t stop...please.”

It was then that your feet finally caught up with your head and walked you backwards back towards your bedroom. There was no way that you could risk being heard turning the tap on in the bathroom after that. Absolutely no way whatsoever. You felt dirty for hearing it, ashamed that you hadn’t turned back to your bedroom the first time you heard him moan from his room. Even though you couldn’t move. 

As soon as your door clicked shut (quietly, you made sure of that), you rested your back against it as you closed your eyes. You could barely straighten your breathing as you covered your warm face with your hands and exhaled sharply. Covering your eyes made everything worse. The sounds you’d heard coming from Taron’s bedroom were already playing on loop like a song you heard on the radio that got stuck in your head for days. But covering your eyes made you think back to your dream and the mix of the two things was far from what you needed. 

Like a switch had been flipped somewhere in the world, your bedroom turned into a sauna. It was stuffy and sweaty as you pushed yourself away from the door and towards the window that you’d closed. Breathing in the cold air from outside when you’d opened it helped a little but not enough. 

Though the feeling of the air against your skin that was still covered with a film of sweat cooled you down just enough that you were able to wade your way back through the stuffiness to your bed that still lay unmade from minutes before when you’d practically thrown yourself out of it. But sheets weren’t as warm as the rest of the room and they prickled your bare legs with coolness as you climbed back in and covered your feet. 

As you lay your head back against your pillows, you debated whether or not it was a good idea. Well, you knew that it probably wasn’t a good idea but you knew that it wasn’t going to stop you. There was a magnet pulling you to want to do it, dragging your top over your head so that you could drop it to the floor next to you without you comprehending it. And then your hips lifted on their own accord allowing you to drag your shorts down your legs to join the top on the floor. 

You started with a gentle teasing, running the very tips of your fingers down the length of your body; all the way from your neck down to your breasts where you paid attention to your pebbled nippes, letting your head fall back before continuing down to the waistband of your underwear. 

But you didn’t give in to your desire right away. You continued to tease yourself, drawing attention to your inner thighs with your right hand while you massaged your breast softly with the other. It felt good but it was nowhere near as nice as it felt when Taron did the same thing in your dream. Nowhere near as nice as his fingers drawing lazy patterns against the softest part of your leg. 

“No, Y/N,” you whispered with a shake of your head, “you’re not bloody thinking about that dream. It’s bad enough that you’re doing this at all.” 

When you became needier, your fingers moving to touch yourself over your underwear, your hips bucked. Even through your underwear you could feel how ungroomed you were and it made your coil back a little bit. Body hair never bothered you in the slightest but feeling it on yourself right then brought you back to reality, and the reason why you weren’t groomed. 

A surge of pleasure ran through you as your fingers ghosted your clothed clit, ignoring the thoughts that circled your mind. Your back arched off the bed and your lips parted as you stifled a moan. There hadn’t been a doubt in your mind that you were gagging for pleasure but that sealed the deal for you. 

There was already a small wet patch in your underwear from the immense arousal you felt, your heat starting to throb as you ran your fingers up and down yourself. Though you never dipped them below the material. The soft, teasing touches were enough to light every nerve on fire, tingles shooting throughout your whole body as you allowed yourself to fall deeper into the state of relaxation. 

But whereas normally you would fall into that state in the comfort of your own flat where you didn’t necessarily have to take into account how loud you were being, in the flat you had to be careful. From your room you could no longer hear Taron’s breathy moans and murmurs of a name but you knew that he might hear you. And you couldn’t be sure that Taron was even doing what you thought he was doing. 

Nonetheless, you tried to get yourself into that state of mind but there was something stopping you. It didn’t help that without your vibrator you had to put twice as much effort in to get anywhere near as good a feeling as with your fingers. And by the time you’d gotten to that point of intense pleasure that rippled through you, your forearm would cramp and you wouldn’t be able to feel your fingers properly anymore. 

When you did finally let your fingers slip under the material of your underwear, you could feel your arousal coating them fully. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head at the same time as if you realised how ridiculous you were being. The reason you were in the position you were, with your fingers dipped into your pants and rubbing over your entrance softly, was because of a dream you’d had about your best friend. About Taron. 

And that’s when it hit you. It hit you like a tonne of bricks, burying you in the mattress as your heart stopped beating for a second--even though it seemed to stop completely. When people told you that you fought like an old married couple you’d always laughed it off. Taron had too. But what if that was the problem? What if the problem was that you were so caught up in telling everyone that you weren’t together--and would never be together, that you didn’t think about it enough? 

What if all along you’d been trying to convince yourself that you weren’t interested rather than everyone else? You always blamed the fact that Taron wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever dated. He was goofy and unapologetically himself. He was always down for a takeaway and a movie night and would often blow off going to the gym to be around you. Whenever you needed help, you knew that you could call him and he’d be there in an instant. 

Taron was different. But maybe that’s what you needed. There was a reason that none of your other relationships worked out and maybe it’s because you were so intent on finding someone polar opposite to the man in the room next to you. No one had ever gained your trust the same way that Taron had, and no one understood you completely. No one besides- 

“Taron,” You moaned almost silently as you pulled your arousal up to your throbbing clit, teasing yourself yet again. 

“Oh shut up will you?” You rolled your eyes at your ability to overthink everything so easily all while shuffling a little on the bed to get more comfortable. 

Pleasure rippled through you, your entire bottom half on fire as the middle and ring fingers of your right hand rubbed against your sensitive nub. Your feet were pressed together almost as though you were about to do the butterfly position but as your knees started to give way under the pleasure running through you, they parted. Though you weren’t sure at what point after that they planted firmly on the bed as your hips writhed uncontrollably underneath you. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you rubbed circles against yourself, continuously wishing that you hadn’t been in such a hurry to pack because you really could have done with your vibrator right then. However, you had been in a rush--thanks to Taron telling you to get a move on from the front door--so your precious vibrator was still tucked in the plastic box under your bed wrapped in it’s little pouch. 

With one hand massaging your breast and the other rubbing circles over your most sensitive nerve ending, you felt yourself grow more and more frustrated.The crest of your orgasm was in perfect view, your vision going white as you screwed your eyes shut so tightly you could feel your heartbeat. Your fingers continued to rub over you as you gripped the sheets beside you as tightly as you could in hopes of releasing some of the pressure within you. 

But it didn’t matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get yourself to tumble. Not even a little bit. Even when you slowed your movements back down and focussed on your breathing, the volcano in the pit of your tummy wouldn’t erupt. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you grumbled lowly, stopping your movements and letting your body go limp on the bed. 

Before that night, you hadn’t felt ashamed of masturbating since the first few times you’d tried it. But as you lay with your chest heaving and arm aching, you went back to those nights where you would try to hide what you were doing in fear of someone walking in and judging you. Not only were you in your best friend’s flat as you did it, he was also in the room next to you which made you feel worse. So much so that you cowered into the mattress and attempted to rest yourself enough to sleep, as hard a feat as it may be. 

****** 

It hadn’t registered until the morning that you’d slammed your bedroom door shut louder than you’d first thought. And it was the look that Taron gave you as you walked into the kitchen for breakfast that you thought back to the night before when you were in a hurry to get into your room and close the door. You smiled at him sweetly but couldn’t look into his eyes. 

After what was potentially the most awkward breakfast ever where neither of you spoke more than five word sentences to one another despite the shared glances between you, you both got on with your own things. Taron got his laptop out and started to prep himself for the recording of Sing 2, listening to the songs he would have to sing and reading through the script whereas you were catching up on any work emails that you’d missed as well as creating potential marketing bits. 

All in all it had been a pretty uneventful day with you both taking it in turns to make cuppas and food but when it neared dinner time, Taron suggested a Chinese takeaway and a few drinks while you watched something on the TV. Of course, you were more than happy with that decision and immediately started to think of films or tv shows that you could watch. Taron told you that the movie was your choice but to pick something that wouldn’t make you both cry. 

You nodded with a, “Yes sir,” and got to scrolling through every streaming service the two of you had. Netflix came up short and there wasn’t anything on Disney+ that you found caught your attention well. Just as you were about to give in, your head thrown back onto the sofa behind you and the remote falling from your hands, you remembered that you’d wanted to watch _Love, Rosie_ for a while but kept putting it off. 

“How does Love, Rosie sound?” You called from where you sat, jeans tight against your stomach making you regret your decision to actually get dressed that morning. “It’s either that or Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle.” 

Taron stopped digging through the drawers under the tv to turn to you where he puffed cheeks out and moved the air from one to the other for a few seconds while he thought. “I think Love, Rosie could be a good one to watch. Haven’t watched it in a while.” 

You nodded in agreement, finding the film easily on Amazon Prime and paying for it as annoyingly it wasn’t one of the free films. Tarong continued to rummage through the drawers until he found what he wanted. The only Chinese menu that either of you would ever need. 

“I really need to clear those drawers out,” he huffed as he fell onto the sofa next to you, peeling the menu opening and holding it out so that you could both see it. “I’m not sure why but I feel like ordering too much food, eating as much as we can and then laying out on the sofa complaining that we’ve eaten far too much.” 

“Is there any other way to eat Chinese food?” You chuckled, perusing the menu with your top lip pulled between your teeth. “I really fancy the salt and chilli crispy beef.” 

Taron nodded, running his finger down the page until he found the order number, jotting it down on the Notes app of his phone to make ordering easier. “What about getting some ribs too? And some spring rolls?” 

“Yes, yes, YES!” You cheered, finding the numbers to tell him to try and make things easier. “Rice over chips” 

“Always. I feel like I want to get some sweet and sour chicken Hong Kong style too.” 

“Taron Egerton you are the perfect man!” 

Laughter surrounded you as you added yet another dish to the order, Taron locking his phone so that he didn’t delete anything or add something either. It felt nice to be so relaxed and carefree around one again. Even with your awkward breakfast, you were able to get out of that mood and fall back into regular life with Taron. 

“Okay, okay. So let’s make sure we’re ordering right.” 

When you knew that the order was correct, you left Taron to do the phone call while you put the menu away and headed through to your room to change out of your blasted jeans. You knew after breakfast that it’d been the worst idea you’d had to put your jeans on but you refused to take them off. As uncomfortable as they were, it felt good to see your legs and enjoy how you looked in them. And the selfies you’d taken in the mirror in the bathroom had been worth it. 

But you were happy to change into your leggings and a hoodie. The hoodie engulfed you, probably because it wasn’t actually your hoodie and was oversized anyway. You weren’t 100% whose hoodie it was but you refused to find out. It was big and cosy and covered the parts of your body you weren’t happy with. You knew that it wasn’t Taron’s as he hadn’t commented on it being his when you wore it around him but maybe it could have been your dads. 

Not that it mattered. No one had asked you if they had their hoodie and therefore it had been rightfully claimed as your own. When you were dressed, you grabbed the blanket from your bed and trudged back through to the living room where Taron was back on his laptop. 

“It’ll be here in 45 or so. So I thought we might as well not start the film yet.” 

“Good thinking. We can have our first glass of wine now though, right?”

Taron tilted his head to the side as if to say, well duh, and you laughed at him, throwing the blanket onto the empty sofa and sauntering through to the kitchen. The top shelf of the cupboard was filled with wine glasses of different sizes and heights but the two at the very front were Taron and your favourites. Neither of you knew why you preferred them but you did. 

The stem was a little thinner than the others but the base was thick and sturdy so it didn’t topple easier. And the glass itself was rounder and could fit a bit more wine in it. Maybe that’s why you preferred them. Grabbing the wine from the fridge, a chilled Chardonnay that wouldn’t last you long, you headed back to the living room where Taron was listening to another song. 

“You get to sing this?” You asked excitedly, plopping down on the sofa. 

“Yeah,” Taron replied with a smile, singing along to the song as you struggled to open the wine. “Do you want me to get that?” 

You shook your head at him. “I’ve got it. Got all these new muscles from carrying shopping bags. This’ll be easy.” 

Taron chuckled at you and put the laptop to the side so that he could watch you attempt to open the bottle. “You’re going to need more than just a drink when you hurt yourself. Pass it here and let me do it before we’ve got wine all over the floor.” 

“You have laminate, I’ll lick it up,” you joked, twisting the cap as much as you could to no avail. “Fine,” you grumbled, passing the bottle to Taron who only laughed at you. “Don’t bloody laugh. It’s the devil’s work that.” 

With one single twist, Taron had the wine open and was looking at you with a smug grin. “What’s that? The devil’s work?” 

“I loosened it for you.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, weakling. Now, where’s my glass? I’m parched after that!” 

“Oh do one will you?” You scoffed playfully, handing him the glasses one at a time so that he could fill them. “Is that all you’re giving me?” 

Taron lifted your glass into the air to examine it properly. He lifted an eyebrow up and looked at you skeptically. “There’s almost a full glass there.” 

“Key word in that sentence...almost. There’s almost a full glass. Which means that there isn’t a full glass.” 

With a chuckle of disbelief and a final pour of wine into your glass, he handed it over, smiling when you got excited. He loved watching you get excited about things, whether that be about your glass of wine being full or about something else. There was something about the way your entire face scrunched and your shoulders lifted as you smiled and made incoherent sounds that made absolutely no sense. 

Your smile had always been intoxicating to him but it was different when you were truly excited. You weren’t a 29 year old when you got excited. No, you were more like a five year old who got the toy they wanted in a McDonald’s Happy Meal on the first try. The entire room around you changed when you were in that state of mind. No one could hold their smiles and everything felt a lot lighter. 

“You’re staring at me…” you said when you’d taken a sip of your adult juice. 

“It’s just fun to see you get so excited,” he answered quickly, closing the lid of his laptop and lifting his own drink to his lips. He tried to get as excited as you had but it didn’t work and you wound up laughing at him rather than with him. “Alright, alright no need to be mean.” 

“I’m not being mean,” you defended, lifting your glass back to your lips. “You just have to do it like this.” 

Taron copied your actions, laughing with you when his drink went up his nose and he started coughing. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this excited life, you know.” 

“It does take a lot of training to get to my level. Don’t worry though, I’ll help you out.” 

With his wine in one hand and his phone in the other, Taron stood himself up from the chair he’d been in, placing the items on the coffee table and telling you that he was going to go and get plates and cutlery for you. “Oh, and the other wine because I know that you like it to be at room temperature rather than straight from the fridge.” 

“That is correct,” you chuckled, watching him walk out of the room. 

That’s when you took a breath and tried to control your mind. Ever since the night before when you dreamt what you did, you hadn’t been able to think about anything else whenever you looked at him. Whenever he spoke you could hear him tell you that he was going to make you feel good, and you could hear him ask if he could taste you. Whenever he handed you anything, you could feel his hands roaming your body, massaging your breasts and inner thighs as he kissed his way down your body. 

The simple thought of him doing that ignited every tiny nerve ending on your body and sent tingles everywhere, especially to your bum which made you shift weirdly. It didn’t matter how many times you told yourself to stop thinking about him that way, you couldn’t stop. Somewhere in your head was the switch to turn the thoughts off but the thoughts themselves were so overbearing that you couldn’t find the switch. 

“That was a quick 45 minutes,” Taron said as he walked through the living room to the front door, placing the wine and things you would need for dinner on the table in front of you. “Get the film ready?” 

“Aye aye captain.” 

You could hear him chatting at the front door as he accepted the delicious food awaiting the two of you and you smiled to yourself as you waited. “Thank you brother, have a lovely evening.” 

It took him a matter of seconds to speed walk back into the living room, a cardboard box in hand as he looked at you. 

“We didn’t order that much, surely!” You exclaimed, helping him put the box on the table ready to be emptied, peeking over the edge of it to see what Taron had ordered. “Wait, we didn’t day about getting prawn crackers. Or a bottle of cola?” 

“They’ve given us more food because we ordered over £20. I was thinking we could give mum the cola tomorrow? Seeing as though neither of us drink full sugar.” 

“That sounds good,” you smiled, opening the multitude of tubs that were ready for you. “Who needs to go to a buffet when you can have one at home?” 

****** 

Far too much Chinese food and three glasses of wine later, Love, Rosie was coming to an end and you sprawled on the sofa with your calves resting over Taron’s thighs and smiling like an idiot into your wine glass. You could feel Taron’s side against your arm as you watched the scenes unfold in front of you; Alex slowly professing his love to Rosie who was standing in front of the most glorious window. 

You got all giddy when Alex leaned in to kiss Rosie, tensing your calf muscles against Taron’s thighs. He turned to you and shook his head at you but you couldn’t help it. Rosie was finally going to get her man and that Alex was finally getting his girl. You wondered when you would get that; a movie-worthy happy ending that made you all giddy inside. 

Taron took a sip of his wine but kept his glass at his lips once he’d swallowed it. He was studying the film intently. You turned back to the TV just as Alex pressed his lips to Rosie’s for the first time and you sighed in contentment. Taron’s hand squeezed your leg as the couple on screen kissed again as the camera started to zoom out. 

“It’s sweet that they got together in the end,” Taron commented when the credits started to roll, taking a swig of wine as he watched you stretch. “I love that they didn’t just get together either. They went through relationships and whatever.” 

“I mean it would have saved a lot of heartbreak had they realised their feelings sooner,” you replied as you turned to face him. “If they’d have one another from the beginning, you know?” 

Taron nodded, “But they kind of did. They had that friendship that kept them going. They could always go back to that.” 

“There’s a point when friendship just isn’t enough,” you spoke slowly, regretting your choice of words instantly. It took you a mere second to look away from him again, his hand halting all movements on your leg over the blanket.

He moved his hand from your calf to your chin so that he could turn you to look at him properly, his forehead moving forward to rest against yours as he breathed deeply. Your own heart was racing ten to the dozen so you could only imagine how fast Taron’s was. He held your chin as he looked into your eyes, a million and one things running through them as he took you in. 

The green of his eyes was disappearing before you, being taken over by his pupils that wouldn’t stop growing. You could just about see his tongue poke out from between his lips to wet them before retreating back to its cave. His breath tickled your top lip as he took shaky, uneven breaths, not sure how to word what was on his mind. 

You took your own shaky breath, holding the glass of wine tighter in your hand so that you wouldn’t drop it out of pure nervousness. “Taron what are y-” 

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we kissed?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, explicit language

“Have I...umm, have I what, sorry? I don’t know if I heard that.” 

Your mouth ran drier than the Sahara desert as you took a long, trembling breath with your wine glass shaking in your hands as you watched Taron’s eyes. They didn’t so much as flicker as he watched you in the same way that you were watching him. He licked his bottom lip into his mouth and gulped before parting them again and breathing heavily.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we....kissed?” He repeated his previous question, his eyes still not shifting as he waited for your response. 

You knew that you’d heard what he’d asked but you needed to be sure to make sure that you weren’t hearing things. Taron’s eyes burned a hole in your head and even though he was growing impatient, he stayed quiet while you came up with a response. A response that you were taking forever to give to him. But you didn’t know how to reply. You could either tell him the truth or you could lie to him, but neither of those really sounded like a good option. 

“I ummm...I haven’t,” you finally spoke up after the longest few seconds of your life. “I haven’t-I haven’t thought about it.” 

Taron nodded, dropping his hand from where it still held your chin and looked down at your legs that were covered by a blanket. He ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his wine glass while trying to keep his gaze away from you. You still watched him though, your eyes burning a hole in the side of his head as you barely blinked. 

“I-huh, I-I see,” he stuttered, not quite sure how to respond to you. But yet, he still wouldn’t wouldn’t look you in the eye. “Well just forget I ever said anything.” 

“Taron I-” you try to explain but just like he had days prior, he shook you off, lifting his wine to his lips in an ever failing attempt to ignore what he was hearing. 

He sighed, “It’s fine. I get it, you haven’t thought about it. That’s cool.” 

It was your turn to sigh then and you swung your legs away from him so that you could sit yourself in a curled position at the end of the sofa, the blanket falling to the floor as you did. Things had become so incredibly awkward all of a sudden, almost as though they’d gone back to the way they were when you weren’t good. The air became thick as you breathed heavily, lifting your wine glass to your lips to take a long swig before placing it back against your legs again. 

Taron lifted his glass back up to his lips and tipped it back, swallowing the rest of his wine down in one. You watched him as he did it, trying not to roll your eyes at him when he stood up and took a deep breath. “I need more wine,” he huffed, padding through to the kitchen ignoring your pleas for him to listen. 

“Taron…” You tried again, watching the muscles on his back as he walked away from you. 

“I said...it’s fine,” he exasperated. “We don’t need to talk about it, alright?” 

You stayed in your place for a little longer, sitting in silence as you spun your wine glass between your thumb and forefinger. But you wanted to follow him. Hell you _needed_ to follow him. So you followed him through the living room to the kitchen that was only lit by the under cupboard lights. 

Taron stood with his back to you, a fresh bottle of wine in his left hand and his right hand gripping it to open. You could see the strain of his biceps as he twisted at the cap, his forearm tensing as he held the bottle tightly. At first you stood and watched him. He continued to try and open the bottle but in the end gave up, dropping his right hand and taking a deep breath. 

“I lied,” you spoke up, watching his back tense as he took another deep breath. 

“What?” He asked cautiously, turning around to face you with the bottle still in his hand. It was the Marsanne that you’d bought the week before. The last bottle of it that you had in the flat. And he was willing to drink it when he was pissed, which kinda annoyed you. “How did you lie?” 

“Every day since we were 18,” you breathed softly. It was almost cathartic to say it out loud, to not hide the truth from him anymore. 

“What do you mean, Y/N? I’m confused.” 

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth before letting it go again and glanced at the floor, your fluffy-socked feet tapping against the wooden laminate beneath you. “I’ve wondered what it would be like every day since we were 18…” 

Moving your eyes back up to Taron so that you could see how he reacted, you wrapped your arms around your middle and gripped the sides of your hoodie so that they wouldn’t fall beside you and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Taron stayed quiet to start with, the cogs so clearly working in his head as he tried to put together a string of thoughts from what you’d just told him. 

You couldn’t help the tiny, breathy chuckle that escaped your chest as you took him in. The bottle of white still sat in his hand but you had no idea how he still had a grip on it with how taken aback he appeared to be. His eyebrows were furrowed somewhat as he copied your previous move of pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. 

“Wh-huh?” 

“It was Oliver’s 18th on the pier,” you started, lifting your right hand up to scratch the side of your face as you thought about the best way to tell the story. “You physically couldn’t walk straight and there was no way that I would have been able to carry you all the way back to yours.” 

Taron vaguely remembered that night but it was incredibly hazy. He vividly remembered the pre drinks at his house where he spilled beer on the rug and tried to hide it from his mum-which failed so badly. But after that he couldn’t remember much. 

“Somehow we managed to stagger to the beach, though I think that you crawled at one point...I can’t be too sure,” you continued, watching the colour drain from Taron’s face as he relived the memory from over a decade prior. “We sat with our feet in the sand for well over two hours, the tide had slowly started to come in so kept lapping at our legs. But we’d just move further back on our butts. The sun had started to rise too and we both knew that we were going to be in deep shit with your mum when we got in.” 

“We didn’t even set off back home though, did we?” Taron asked, scratching his forehead as he tried to remember more than just the pre drinks. 

“No,” you laughed, shaking your head at the memory, “we stayed there, my head on your shoulder as we talked absolute shit. Neither of us could form full sentences to be honest. One thing that will always stick with me though…” you paused to take a deep breath. “One thing that will always stick with me was when you asked if me going to university was going to affect our friendship and-” 

“I don’t know why I even asked that,” Taron admitted, blinking quickly. “I knew that it wasn’t going to affect what we had.” 

“That’s what I told you,” you berated playfully, holding your arms around yourself tighter when they started to slip. “And then...then you asked me to kiss you. But I wouldn’t kiss you. You couldn’t put a sentence together for one,” you continued speaking so that Taron couldn’t get a word in himself. “You were absolutely twatted and I knew that you wouldn’t remember it and you not remembering would have broken my fucking heart. God, Taron, I wanted to be more than friends then. And every single day since I’ve questioned my choice. I’ve wondered what would have happened if we’d kissed that morning under the rising sun.” 

“Every day?” Taron asked simply, his chest rising and falling faster than it had been before. 

You nod, “for twelve of the longest years. And when you asked me if I’d ever thought about it, I was taken back to the beach that morning. You aren’t sober now, just like you weren’t then. And truth be told, it would still break my heart if you woke up and didn’t remember anything. It would fucking suck.” 

It was Taron’s turn to nod as he blindly reached behind him to put the bottle of wine back on the worktop. His eyes never left yours as he did it, not even when the bottle wobbled as it almost dropped to the floor. And when it was steady, neither of you moved. Not even a single muscle as you stared at one another. 

Taron’s eyes were like hot knives stabbing every inch of your skin and you shifted uncomfortably in your spot. You questioned your choice of telling him. But you knew that things would have been far more awkward had you not told him anything. 

“Please say something,” You said finally, lifting one of your arms to hold onto your shoulder where you were able to rest your cheek on your wrist. “Anything.” 

“You said that I wouldn’t remember that night or a kiss?” Taron replied quickly, almost as if he’d been too scared to say anything first. You nodded. “Well you’re wrong. I never forgot that night. You telling me what happened simply told me that you also hadn’t forgotten. Because God knows I thought you had.” 

Your chest tightened as your breathing turned shaky and your eyes welled with tears. They weren’t tears of sadness but you weren’t sure if they were tears of happiness. Tears of relief, more than likely. 

“Taron-” 

“All this time? All this time we’ve dated other people, we’ve lived with other people, we’ve..fuck I don’t even know,” he said quickly, running his hands down his face in exasperation. “How do you...feel about everything now? About us?” 

You kept your hands wrapped around yourself but took a single step closer to him, keeping your eyes on his to watch for any sign of him moving away from you. But he remained in his spot with his eyes on yours. Your skin was in fire as you moved closer to him where you could see his pupils dilate. 

“This is such a cliché,” you laughed, “but I hoped that dating other people would help me to forget about you. I hoped that I would forget about the night you asked me to kiss you. But it never did.” 

Taron took his own step forward. 

“Yes, that is the biggest cliché,” he laughed, sniffling and wiping a tear that had fallen down his cheeks. Unlike the tears that were welling in your eyes, you knew Taron’s was a tear of happiness with the huge smile on his face. “I’m going to ask you again and this time...this time I want you to tell me the truth. Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we kissed?” 

“Yes,” you responded, taking another step forward and letting the tears fall from your eyes. The corners of your lips turned up into a smile as you watched him carefully. “Have you? Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we kissed?” 

“God yes,” he laughed, taking the final step forward so that he was in front of you properly where you had to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. He unwrapped our arms from your body and grabbed your hands tightly, scared that if he let go you would run away from him or that he would wake up from a dream. 

“Taron?”

“Yes?” 

“Will you just bloody kiss me already?” 

Neither of you could breathe evenly, your lungs expanding with air and then expelling it all just as fast, if not faster. One of his hands lifted to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch, enjoying the heat that radiated from him as he carefully held you in place. And when his forehead moved forward to rest against yours the same way that it had minutes prior in the living room, you were both smiling like little kids. 

You took a few seconds to get yourselves together, simultaneously running your tongue over your lips which had you both chuckling. 

“Third time’s a charm,” Taron chuckled, his lips ghosting yours and his breath fanned over your top lip. The touch tickled but in the best possible way. 

And when your arms wrapped around his middle tightly where you fisted his t-shirt at the bottom of his back silently begging him to kiss you properly, he couldn’t resist any longer. He pressed his lips firmly against yours, exhaling a breath he didn’t know that he’d been holding, all while his eyes fluttered closed. 

His lips were soft against yours and yours were far more soft than he could have ever imagined, fitting perfectly against his. You moved your hands up from the bottom of his back to his cheeks so that you could keep him against you for a few seconds longer. You didn’t want the kiss to end. Not even for a second. 

When you did start to pull away from one another, you let out a shaky breath, your lips turned back up into a smile. Though you didn’t open your eyes. Not straight away at least. You wanted to stay in the moment for as long as you could and if that meant keeping your forehead against Taron’s with your hands on his cheeks, his hand on your cheek and your eyes closed forever then that’s what you would do. 

But you knew that you had to open them eventually. And when you did, Taron was already looking at you, a gleam to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. You both laughed. A breathy laugh that had your foreheads bumping together and a hiss leaving you at the slight pain. 

“We really are stupid, aren’t we?” Taron asked with one hand still on your cheek as he pulled you closer by your waist with the other. 

“Dictionary definition,” you laughed, closing your eyes as he leaned in again, capturing your bottom lip between his as he swayed you softly. 

You sighed into him, moving your arms around his neck where you could pull him into you properly. From where you were slotted against him, you could feel the thumping of his heart against your chest as it picked up its pace. You were sure that he would be able to feel the rapturous pace of yours as you let yourself relax into him. 

You held him that bit tighter when he pulled away slightly to take a much needed breath before slotting his lips with yours again, his nose brushing yours as he showed you how much he’d wanted to kiss you. All of his emotion was thrown onto you, drowning you in the best possible way. The two of you became lightheaded as you continued to shower one another in 12 years worth of kisses.

Taron nervously ran his tongue across your bottom lip and you tried your best to hide how giddy you were getting. With your hands holding his neck delicately, you were able to pull him into you even more while you parted your lips just enough for his tongue to snake into your mouth and swipe against yours. 

You could taste the wine that he’d consumed during the evening as he massaged your tongue with his own. Things were going in slow motion as you held onto one another tightly and swayed to the non existent music without so much as moving your feet. Every movement seemed to last for hours as you kissed Taron. Every single emotion that you’d bottled up for years swirled around the two of you creating a rush, almost like you were in a Disney movie kissing your Prince Charming. 

It wasn’t until you were both completely out of breath that you finally pulled away, chests heaving as you rested your foreheads together again. Every inch of your skin that he touched flared with a heat you’d never felt before. A heat that made you feel like you were home. And with his arms wrapped around you strongly, you felt more protected than you ever had before. 

“Twelve bloody years,” Taron chuckled, wrapping both arms around your middle where he held you firmly and lifted your feet off of the ground gently. You giggled as your face nuzzled into his neck, your arms tightening their grip to stop yourself from falling--even though your feet were inches away from the ground below you. “We’ve wasted so much fucking time.” 

You sighed softly as your feet touched the floor again, your lips protruding out just enough to press a chaste kiss to his Adam’s apple, which you felt bob as he gulped. When you pulled away from him completely you were able to look at him properly again. His eyes were shiny and his lips were turned into the most beautiful smile as he blinked daintily. 

“My room or yours?” You chuckled as you held your hand out for him to grab onto. Which he did, without so much as a second thought. 

But he didn’t answer your question. He took the opportunity to spin you into his body once more so that he could hug you to him for a minute longer. You breathed in his scent when your head hit his chest. The beautiful scent of Taron. There weren’t enough words to describe how nice he smelled at all times, even when he was sweaty and gross. He always smelled amazing. 

Taron rubbed your back and you moaned in appreciation. Your body fit so perfectly against his as you clasped your hands at his back to keep him place. His arms were wrapped around you protectively as he held onto you, his head dropping to nuzzle into your neck where he was able to breathe you in entirely. He enjoyed your soft skin against his nose and lips as he breathed in the perfume you’d sprayed last minute in your bedroom before heading out for food. 

You couldn’t hold in the giggle that erupted from the very pit of your stomach when he started to pepper feather-light kisses all over the part of your neck he could get to. He laughed into your skin but refused to stop kissing you despite your laughter-filled pleas. Until he squeezed you into him again because he just needed to feel you against him.

During your friendship you’d hugged millions of times, as any best friends did, but this hug was completely different. You couldn’t quite put a finger on how it was different but it was. There was something behind the gesture that solidified everything for you. Taron too. 

“How about we just go to the living room for now?” He mumbled into your neck. “I just wanna hold you properly for a bit.” 

You nodded the best that you could with him in the position that he was in and began to waddle through to the living room. It was made difficult with Taron holding onto you like a koala, his arms around your body and his legs ridiculously close to yours. “Can’t bloody see, you know. Not with you hanging onto me like that.” 

He pulled away from you then, a giant pout on his lips as he blinked at you. “You’re no fun,” he grumbled, raising his shoulders and letting them fall dramatically. 

“Sulking isn’t going to get you anywhere, Taron, so keep going all you want.” 

With one eyebrows raised, he reached forward to steal a kiss from your lips before running into the living room with the cheekiest grin on his face. You followed behind him in disbelief, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands as you tried not to smile and show him that he’d won whatever it was that you were doing. 

“You are such a child,” You laughed, joining him on the sofa and letting him pull you into his side where he kissed your temple softly. “It’s a good job that you’re cute.” 

“Cute?” He asked in bewilderment. “I don’t wanna be cute, I wanna be a sexy hunk with the big biceps who is the hero for the whole village!” 

You rested your head on his shoulder as he laughed and picked the TV remote up so that he could flick through Netflix. “You’re far from sexy and you know it,” you giggled into him, wrapping your arm around his front to hold him tightly. “I’ll give you handsome but that’s as far as I’ll go.” 

“I’ll take handsome,” he said, still clicking the buttons on the remote and growing more exasperated with each film he bypassed. “Why am I even doing this? I don’t even want to watch Netflix. I just want to kiss you again.” 

“Then kiss me again,” you spoke clearly, looking up at him through your eyelashes with a shy smile. It felt strange, telling him to kiss you but it also felt so incredulously normal. 

You laughed as he threw the remote onto the chair at the other side of the room as though he was getting rid of all temptation. And then he placed a suctioning kiss to your lips as he lowered you onto the sofa until he was hovered over you with one arm holding him in place. He slipped his tongue into your mouth effortlessly and you moaned in appreciation. 

From where you lay, you were able to wrap your arms around his neck lazily to keep his lips against yours. But he still wasn’t close enough to you. You wanted to feel suffocated by him, like he was everywhere around you. So you wrapped your leg around his body and pulled him down onto you, giggling into him when he grunted at the fall. 

“Why’d you have to shave your chuffing hair?” You mumbled into him as you ran your hands over his head. “How am I meant to be cute and twirl it around my fingers while we’re kissing, huh? That’s just mean.” 

Taron laughed himself, kissing your lips once more before pulling away to answer you. “Do you want me to grow it back out again?” 

“I like it like this,” you said quickly, “and if you like it too then keep it this way but...I really wanted to run my hands through your hair and I can’t.” 

“I’ll grow it out,” he mumbled against your awaiting lips, kissing you again before planting his kisses down your jaw and to your neck where you tensed under him. “Only because that means I get to kiss you for months to come.” 

“Can kiss me for as long as you want to kiss me,” you mumbled into the air, your eyes rolling back into your head when he kissed the sweet spot under your ear. “Even if that’s forever.” 

He hummed into your skin as his hands travelled down your body, feeling every curve under him as you held his back. Wet butterfly kisses trailed from your ear all the way to your clavicle where he sucked a little red patch that would’ve bruised had he not stopped. Your hands searched the broad expanse of his back until they finally stopped at the base of his spine where you bunched his t-shirt up in your hands again. 

“Is this okay?” He mumbled into your skin that was becoming clammy. 

“Yes,” you breathed, head rolling back on your neck as he smirked against you. His breath tickled you as he continued to press kisses to you, letting his tongue run over your skin in places. You felt him squeeze your hip in his hands before he pushed them under your hoodie so that he could feel you properly. “God, your hands are so soft.! 

“Not as soft as your skin,” he breathed while blindly kissing back up to your lips where he kissed you hard, the sweetness that was once there having been replaced by a hunger deep within his veins. “Can I...can I take you to my bedroom? Please?” 

“Wait, wait,” you rush as you reach your hands to his front and push him away from you so that you could breathe easily. 

His eyes searched your face frantically as he lifted himself onto an arm to keep his weight off of you entirely. “What? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, reaching up to peck his lips in hopes that it would calm him down. And it did, a little bit. “It’s just...I’m far from groomed-down there- and I just, I don’t feel confident.” 

Taron sighed in relief and held your cheek with his spare hand so that he could make sure that you were looking in his eyes as he spoke. “I don’t mind if you’re not groomed, beautiful. And I’m not saying that just because I want to get my dick wet.” 

“You are disgusting,” you guffawed, pushing him further away from you before regretting your choice and pulling him back into you. “Thank you for not caring and for trying to make me feel better but...it makes me feel really uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” 

“Y/N, don’t you dare apologise for feeling uncomfortable about this!” He exclaimed running his thumb over the top of your cheek as you leaned into him again. “It’s your body and we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to or you feel too uncomfortable. I get that this is a weird situation tonight that neither of us planned on happening. So I’m more than happy to cuddle on the sofa with another film before we both slink off to bed for the night. Whatever you want to do.” 

You could have cried at how thoughtful he was, his eyes on yours the entire time he spoke to prove to you that he was being sincere. And it warmed your heart to know that he cared about how you felt enough to put his own needs and wants to the side. 

“I want to,” you insisted, cupping his cheeks with a sheepish grin. “I really want to. I just feel like shit about not being groomed. It makes me feel really weird and gross even though I know that it shouldn’t. God, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” 

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Taron stood up abruptly and held out his hand for you. When you’d taken it, he pulled you up too and held you to his body quickly and rubbed your back, relaxing you without even trying. 

“I’ve got an idea. And you can tell me to fuck off when I’ve shown you if that’s what you want. But I just want to put the offer out there.” You were beyond confused as he pulled you through the flat until you were both at his bedroom door. “I’m going to go in and grab something, you wait out here and continue to be your bloody amazing self, okay?” 

With that, he’d disappeared into his bedroom and was pulling drawers open and rummaging through them. You shook your head at how loud he was being but took those couple of minutes to really think about what was going on. Earlier in the evening you’d been sitting watching a film with the biggest Chinese you’d ever eaten and then all of a sudden you were in the kitchen kissing Taron and then you were on the sofa with him hovering over you kissing down your neck.

Your fingers reached up to touch the parts of your skin where he’d kissed, the little spots warm under your touch. It was like his lips were still on you and you smiled to yourself. Sure, it wasn’t the night you’d imagined but it a night you’d wanted for far too long. To know that Taron felt the same about you after all that time made you feel things you didn’t even know. 

“Gotcha, you sneaky bastard,” Taron cheered from inside his bedroom causing your lips to turn into an amused grin. “Bloody knew that I had you somewhere.” 

When his bedroom door is pulled open, he steps out and hands you an orange packet. “I’m genuinely not just giving you this because I want to have sex with you...even though I would really, really like to have sex with you,” he chuckled and you shook your head at him while licking your lips. “I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable and I thought maybe you’d like to use it anyway just for yourself. It’s totally up to you.” 

A razor. 

It might not have seemed like a huge deal to someone else but to you it meant a whole lot. “If I go and do what I need to do, are we going to have sex?” 

“Do you want to have sex?” Taron asked you genuinely, his hands in the pockets of his joggers as he watched you with a shy smile. “We don’t have to if-” 

“I want to have sex with you,” you blurt out, eyes widening when you realise just how into it you’d sounded. Taron laughed it off and leaned forward to kiss your lips again. “Give me like...half an hour or so? Then I’ll be ready.” 

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you once more, “Take your time, baby. I’ll wait for you in my room yeah? I’ll leave the door open too so you can just walk straight in.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, passing the razor box to your other hand as you took a step away from him. “I won’t be long, I promise.” 

******

Lizzo played throughout the bathroom as you stepped into the shower, trying your best to not get your hair wet. The razor sat on the shelf waiting for you for once you’d exfoliated and gotten yourself ready to do all of that. You were hoping that Lizzo would psych you up enough to be confident when you got to Taron’s room. 

And while you were having a mini meltdown in the bathroom wondering how much you wanted to shave, Taron was in his bedroom looking around in near hysterics. As he looked around his bedroom, he realised just how untidy it was. But he didn’t have time to tidy it all perfectly so he threw the mountain of dirty laundry into the bottom of his wardrobe and lifted all of the bottles on the top of his drawers up properly so they looked neater. 

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to do anything about the dust on the floor so he moved to his bed where he stripped the sheets as though he was taking part in a competition. And once he reached a hand into the drawer under his bed and pulled out a random clean set of bedding, he threw it on the bed before tugging at each side of the duvet so that it looked as close to perfect as it could. 

As soon as he heard you run through to your room and shut your door, he ran to the bathroom himself, grabbing the trimmer from the drawer under the skin so that he could do some serious manscaping. The last thing he’d expected was to be having sex so he’d not groomed himself in a long while which meant that his pubic hair was insanely unwieldy. 

He swore under his breath as he tried to get it looking decent, almost giving in at one point. When he was finally okay with the hair situation, he jumped into the shower and grabbed the still open bottle of raspberry and mint shower gel that you’d used but not closed and washed his entire body. As he stood under the stream of the shower, the water still hot from when you’d been in, he realised what was happening. 

His hands ran down his face and he spit out the water that got into his mouth as he thought about everything. It was one thing that you’d kissed but to know that you were going to have sex was something else. He knew that sex was a big deal to you, it was for him too, so for you to say that you wanted to was huge. And he knew that he had to make sure that it was perfect for you. Otherwise he would never forgive himself. 

After his shower, he rinsed his mouth out with the mouthwash that was by the sink so that he didn’t taste like wine and the chinese food you’d eaten when he got to kiss you again. 

While Taron gave himself a pep talk in the steamed up mirror before heading back to his bedroom to find some clean clothes to wear, you were in your bedroom having a meltdown because you had no idea what to wear. Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t find a matching set of underwear to save your life. Everything that you’d taken was ugly and in no way sexy. 

You let out a quiet cheer when you finally got your hands on a pair of black pants (even though they covered more of your bum than they left bare) and a plain black bra. They weren’t necessarily ‘sexy’ but they were a matching set so they were good enough. 

“These will have to do,” you muttered to yourself, pulling them onto your body and looking at yourself in the mirror. “Now what the fuck do I wear over the top of this?” 

Sure, you knew that you were going to have sex so whatever clothes you put on wouldn’t stay on for too long, but you were aware that a dressing gown would be too little clothing and wearing your hoodie would be far too much. You were incredibly thankful that Taron wasn’t going to your room because you’d thrown all of your clothes everywhere in hopes that you could find something to wear. In the end, you threw your leggings back on and grabbed one of your oversized t-shirts that was comfortable enough to sleep in so that you weren’t sleeping naked, something that you hated. 

When you were dressed and ready to go to Taron’s room, you sprayed yourself with some of your favourite perfume as the spray you’d popped on before food had washed off in the shower before tiptoeing down the hall until you were standing at Taron’s door. You took a deep breath and almost chickened out and walked back to your bedroom. Almost. But then Taron peeked out from behind the door with a smile. 

“I thought you were going to change your mind,” he said, clearly relieved to see you standing there. 

“Never,” you smiled, taking his hand in yours when he offered it out to you to take. You were well aware that your hands were clammy and sticky but Taron didn’t seem to mind. 

As you stood in front of Taron with your hand in his, you were once again surrounded by a cloud of awkwardness. You both wanted to kiss the other but you weren’t quite sure how to go about it. You’d gone past the point of being confident enough to lean in to kiss one another and were now fumbling to hold the other and tilt your head enough to not bash our noses together. 

Taron led you to the end of his bed where he pulled you into his body with his hands holding your hips to his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked quietly. “We can stop right here and go back to how we were before or we can go to bed and I can put a film on my laptop? I don’t want you thinking that we have to do anyth-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his, holding his cheeks in your hands just as softly. He sighed into you, kissing you back immediately as he grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and started to pull it up your back until it caught on your arms and you had to pull away from him so that you could take it off properly. 

That’s when you looked down at your bra, wishing that you had some form of psychic abilities so that you could have packed a nicer one as a ‘just in case’ kinda thing. But why would you ever know that you would be in that position; topless in Taron’s bedroom with his eyes scanning down from your eyes to the waistband of your leggings, his hands on your hips as he pushed himself back enough to look at you?

“I’m sorry it’s not sexy,” you whispered, “my knickers aren’t that nice either.” 

“Shhh, you look bloody perfect,” he smiled, pulling you into him where he kissed your lips. No longer were his kisses soft and delicate. Or at least they were, but there was a hint of hunger in them. Lust too. Slowly but surely he started to kiss his way down your neck and to your chest where he started kissing the swell of your breasts which had your breath catching in your throat. Especially when he kitten-licked the skin. “Is this...is this okay?” 

“Yes,” you breathed. “God yeah, it’s okay.” 

Your hands were holding the hem of his t-shirt as he held your waist firmly and kissed and sucked and nipped and loved your breasts. There was one particular graze of his teeth that had your head falling forward onto his. He pulled away from you and rubbed the area you’d banged with a chuckle. 

It didn’t take long until you were tugging the black material up the expanse of his back, needing to feel his chest against yours fully. And Taron obliged, crossing his arms over his front to grab it and pull it over his head, tossing it on the floor somewhere near yours. Neither of you took any attention as you were far too busy connecting your lips again. 

Things seemed to go from being in slow motion to being on four times speed. Before your brain even had time to think about what was going on, you were laying on top of his bed in his arms pulling him closer to you at the same time that he was trying to pull you closer to him. You couldn’t deny the eruption of butterflies in your tummy when he rolled you over enough that he could slot his thigh between your legs. And your heart stopped momentarily when he pressed it up against your already throbbing core. 

“Taron,” you moaned quietly, your eyes fluttering closed. With your eyes closed, you missed the look of euphoria that washed over Taron’s face. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you again as his thigh pressed into you again. 

The friction was much needed and in some ways it was unbearable. You wanted him wholly, without your clothes on. “Taron, wanna, god I wanna feel you.” 

Taron didn’t need to be told twice. He was already on his back pushing his joggers down his body until they were at his ankles where he could kick them off and onto the floor by the bed. You laughed at him for a second before grabbing the sides of your leggings and pushing them down your legs. Though you weren’t as gracious as Taron had been and wound up pushing yourself so far up the bed that you hit your head on the headboard. 

“Only me,” you groaned through an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the area you’d bumped the same way Taron had when you bumped against his head. “I guess that’s what they call karma, eh?” 

“Are you okay?” He asked seriously, holding your cheeks so that you were looking at him fully. 

“I’d be much better if you kissed me,” you winked. “You know, just to make sure…” 

He smiled at you boyishly while he leaned forward to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, moving his arms to wrap around your body so that he could hold onto you while he rolled to hover over you again. You could feel his growing bulge against you when he pressed his hips forward into yours, his hands moving to the clasp of your bra where he unfastened it but kept it covering you. 

“Can you believe that we’re doing this?” You asked him shyly, running your hands over his shoulder blades and down his arms lovingly. “Like we’re actually doing this.” 

“Honestly?” He asked, waiting for you to nod. “I genuinely cannot believe that we’re doing this. It feels like a dream.” 

“Oh trust me, this is much better than any dream.” 

******

Your lips parted in a moan as Taron pulled his middle finger through your folds, pulling your arousal up to your clit. All while his lips were skillfully pressed against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth easily. You were completely overwhelmed in all the best ways. 

You were both naked; Taron’s length resting against your outer thigh as he rubbed small circles over your sensitive nub, smirking when you would moan into his mouth. Your hands were gripping his arms tightly and you knew that as soon as you let go, you’d see the white marks where you’d cut off the blood circulation. 

“I-fuck, god Taron I need you in me, please,” you moan into him, digging your nails into his arm a little harder when he drew more of your juices up to your clit. 

“Your wish is my command,” he joked as he rolled over onto you ready to line himself up with your entrance. Though you stopped him before he could. 

“Do you have....ummmm, have you got a condom? I trust that you’re clean and everything but-” 

“Fuck yeah I forgot about that, sorry. I’ve got a couple in my drawer though. One second.” 

He was quick to climb off of you, pecking your lips as he stood up. His bum was on full display as he walked to the drawer by his bedroom door and he purposely shook it when he knew that you were watching. You giggle to yourself but shake your head at how daft he was. You didn’t think that he would ever know how much you appreciated him being his usual silly self right then. 

The nerves had started to get the better of you when he climbed off you. You knew that it was because you had time to overthink things when his lips weren’t pulling earth-shattering kisses from you but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. So him being silly and doing things that he knew would make you laugh helped a lot. It made you feel so much more comfortable in that situation. 

When he turned back around, a silver packet in hand, you were finally able to take his naked frame in for the first time. And as if he knew that you needed a few seconds to take him in while you regained a little bit of your confidence, he stood still in the middle of his bedroom. 

Throughout your friendship you’d seen a lot of his naked body but never had you seen the muscle definition at the top of his thighs are the squidgy parts of his hips, or the full shape of his body. And never had you seen both the top half and the bottom half of him bare at once. It felt strange, watching him be totally naked in front of you, but when you remembered that you were naked too it felt strangely better. 

After a few seconds of standing seriously, he lifted his hands to his hips where he pulled a pose that had you rolling around the bed laughing. 

“You are actually a lunatic,” you choked out through boisterous laughs. 

If you thought your nerves were bad when he’d climbed off of you in search of a condom, then you wouldn’t even call them nerves when he was back on the bed, the condom wrapped around his cock. You’d call them mini earthquakes running through your entire body as you held onto him. 

There were so many questions running around your head, Taron’s too. What if you’d thought about it too much and hyped it up so much that it was going to be bad? What if it was bad in general? What if one of you hated it and the other loved it? What would it do to your friendship if you decided that you didn’t actually want to be together that way? 

You were only brought back to earth when Taron pulled you in for a kiss. There was no doubt in your mind that he knew that you were spiralling. And he’d already figured out that he could relax you by kissing you. Which wasn’t a bad thing. Not if it meant that he got to keep kissing you. 

He lay on his side in front of you and lifted your left leg over his hip as he reached down to pump himself a few times before he lines himself up with your entrance. You could feel his tip dip into you the tiniest amount and it felt like pure bliss. 

“Are you 100% sure about this? I know I keep asking you but I want to be sure.” You nodded at him, taking a deep breath ready to feel him push into you. But he didn’t. “I need to hear you say it, baby girl. Please.” 

If you weren’t complete mush on the inside already, you were at his pet name for you. It sounded so gentle falling from his tongue and you could tell that he meant it sincerely. Both with the way that he said it and the way that he looked at you dead in the eye. 

“I’m sure. Please, Taron…” 

He pressed into you a little more, watching your face contort at the movement. Though he kept his eye on you, looking for any sign of discomfort. “I want you to tell me if I hurt you, okay? I’ll stop immediately.” 

You couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t feel a little uncomfortable at first. The stretch was something that you hadn’t felt in a long while and Taron was bigger than you could have imagined so stretched you more than the last guy you’d been with had. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel good. Because it felt insanely good. 

The uncomfortable feeling dissipated as he pressed inch after glorious inch into you slowly, still watching your face for any sign of discomfort. And with each passing second, you could feel yourself giving in to him completely. Your muscles relaxed completely as you wrapped your arms around his middle to pull him into you. 

You weren’t quite sure how you were so calm during the whole thing, in all honesty. Only half an hour before, you almost believed that you weren’t actually going to have sex with Taron but there you were, chest pressed against his as he put his penis inside you. His lips pressed to yours in fluttery kisses as though he was trying to distract you from how completely baffling the whole situation was. 

He used the opportunity of having his tongue in your throat to push into you completely, his hips flush with yours as you choked a moan into his mouth. Though before he retracted his hips out of you, he gave you a minute to adjust to him which you greatly appreciated. But when you tried to move your hips he pulled out of you before pushing back in just as slowly as the first time. 

His movements had purpose. Not once did he try to pick up the pace as he pulled away from your lips and looked deep into your eyes as you held onto him. You were thankful that you were facing one another as it made it easy to pull his chest into yours so that you could hold him tightly. And when he retracted his hips once more before pushing back into you--only this time with a little more force--, you shifted back on the bed slightly with a giggle. 

Taron had no idea why he’d thought about the position you were in, your leg over his hip as he thrust into you all so that he could look you in the eye. But it was nice because you were able to take one another in and it was comforting. You were able to hold one another tightly as you did the one thing you thought you’d never do with one another. To be honest, you didn’t quite know how to put into words how indescribable the whole thing was. 

Your breasts pushed into his chest when he lifted his hips further even when he was completely in you, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot perfectly. Taron smirked when you breathed sharply and your head rolled back onto your neck. He continued to thrust into you from that particular angle while he kissed down your jaw and neck. 

There was no way that his back wouldn’t have red lines down it the next day. What with how much you were clawing at the skin with your nails. But your entire body was on fire as you lay in his bed. Not only was your core being stretched so beautifully by Taron but he was touching you everywhere else. His front was against yours, his lips wouldn’t leave you alone for a single second (not that you minded) and his hands held onto any part of your body that they could. 

A slight sheen of sweat covered you both as you lay together on the sheets on his bed. His thrusts were slow but they were purposeful. He wanted you to feel every single retraction of his hips and every single push forward. He wanted you to feel everything. And you did. You could feel every vein of his length and every bump against your inner walls which clenched down on him whenever he hit your g-spot. 

He tried to keep his thrusts slow because he wanted to live in that moment forever. But after a while he physically could take it and he had to speed his thrusts up, the bed starting to creak under you as he thrust up into you continuously with his head tucked into your neck and his breath fanning over your clammy skin.

The sound of your skin slapping echoed throughout the entire room and you both felt yourselves transcending into a state of euphoria as you gave one another your entire soul. You were sharing every part of yourself with him as he gave you every part of himself. You could hear your moans tangle together above you, and the occasional groan when Taron pressed into you as far as he physically could, and your lips smacking together with each sloppy kiss that you shared. 

“Ow, fuck, shit. ‘Ve for cramp,'' you breathed as the most uncomfortable pain shot up the length of your leg and into your hip that was pressed against Taron’s. 

His movements stopped instantly as he rushed to pull himself out of you completely. You whined at the loss of contact but then another sharp cramp ran up your leg and you were screaming out again. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he rushed as he held you to him fully, massaging your leg for you as you breathed through the pain. “It’s okay, you’re good.” 

You could feel the cool air of the bedroom against your heat as Taron rolled you over so that he could hover over you. The pillow that had been under his head was used to prop your hips up in an attempt to prevent any further cramp. 

“Is that better?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your lips. 

“Kinda,” you uttered against him, running a hand down the length of your thigh to try and massage the pain out. “I’m okay though. You can carry on.” 

“Are you sure?” he said with a chuckle. 

“Yeah. 100%. Please.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand on your thigh and the other holding his length, he lined himself up again and pushed in easily, drawing a long moan from your lips as he pressed into you as far as he could. It felt better that time around if that were even possible. 

You genuinely believed that you could feel him in your tummy as he found a rhythm that fit you both well. The fire that built in you got hotter and hotter with each passing second and your nails continued to scratch into his back as he thrust into you. 

“Fuck, Taron. You feel so fucking good,” you moaned, head rolled back on your neck as the sound of your hips smacking together surrounded you. 

He tried to hide the smirk that was growing as he pulled up to plant a chaste kiss to your lips. “Yeah?” He asked playfully, rutting up into you just so that he could hear you moan and your breath hitch in your throat. He didn’t know why he was so enamoured by your breathy moans and your feet digging into his bum to keep him close to you but he was. 

A low grown bubbled from his throat when you let your hands slip down his back until they were planted firmly on his bum squeezing the flesh as you lifted your hips to meet him. No longer were you both being sweet and gentle with one another. Your goal had changed to making him cum. You wanted to make him feel so good that he couldn’t help but orgasm. The thought alone had you smirking into his cheek when he rested it against your lips. 

“God, baby. I don’t think I’m gonna last. Feels so good.” 

“Yeah?” You mocked him playfully. “You can cum, know you wanna.” 

Letting his top half rest over you entirely, forcing a large exhale from the contact, he groaned loudly into your neck as his thrusts became sloppy and quicker. Your entire body was being inched up the bed with each thrust of his hips but you held onto him tightly, not wanting him to go anywhere. Every part of your body was on fire and you could feel yourself reaching that point. But not quite. 

And just like he’d said not even two minutes before, he didn’t last very much longer. His hips grew tired as he thrusted in and out of you a few more times, releasing into the condom that was wrapped around his length. You ran your hands up and down his back as he rode out his high with your lips pressing a kiss to his head. His body lifted and fell with your laboured breathing and his head spun with ecstasy as he held onto you tightly. 

“How was it?” You asked sweetly, squeezing his shoulders as you pressed more kisses to his clammy head, waiting for his breathing to go back to normal.

“I’m not done yet,” he mumbled into your skin, the vibrations from his voice rippling over your entire body. He lifted his head just enough that he could look you in the eye properly. “You didn’t get to cum and that’s not on.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” you choked out, struggling to breathe at his words. “I’m good not having an orgams, it’s fine.” 

“Nope,” he insisted, “I cum, you cum. It’s that simple.” 

“I don’t expect you to…” 

“Y/N I swear.” 

That shut you up and he nodded his head as if to say ‘yeah, that’s right’ with a smile before pulling a suctioning kiss from your lips. He didn’t move to guide you through an orgasm straight away. Instead he took the time to hold onto you to regain some of his strength so that he could on top form. And it was nice to hold onto him in that state, when his breathing was still a little erratic and he was trying to come down from an immense high. 

It no longer felt weird to be completely naked with him and having sex. It felt nice, really. And completely natural. A little too natural to be honest. But you didn’t question it. You kept your arms wrapped tightly around his body as he planted kisses to your neck and jaw with a smile on his face. 

His cock was still buried deep inside you but you could feel as it started to soften. Taron clearly did too as he pulled his hips away from yours enough that his cock slipped out of you leaving you feel empty and cold. You hadn’t realised that you’d let out a whine of sadness until you felt Taron giggle from where he lay on top of you. 

“Bloody obsessed with me aren’t you?” He joked. 

“Oh do one,” you laughed, swatting his shoulder before pulling him in for a hug. 

You were covered in a sheen of sweat covering you as you lay under him. The left side of his body lowered onto your right side fully as he held your waist with his arm. He lifted his body away from yours enough for him to scoot a little further down the bed. A trail of goosebumps erupted on your skin as he raked his fingers up your body until we could circle your nipple gently. All while his lips found purchase on your neck and clavicle. 

You breathed his name into the air around you and the light sound of his chuckle echoed throughout the room as the vibrations from his lips rippled through your body. 

His palm flattened over your left breast, massaging it gently as he kissed back up your neck to your lips. Your kisses were hungry and full of lust, saying all the things that you couldn’t quite put into words. Neither or you could believe that it’d taken you so long to just admit to one another how you felt, even though you hadn’t actually told one another how you felt. 

He swallowed the moan that came riproaring through you as you pushed your elevated hips forward against his in hopes that he would finally give in and give you what you needed. But he didn’t. And you whined when he rolled over you more to press his hips into yours again, his now soft cock pressing against you deliciously and giving you the best kind of friction. 

“Shhhh, darling, it’s okay. I’ll get there,” he whispered, peppering kisses all over your face until you giggled under him, arms and legs flailing at how much it tickled. 

But you stopped dead in your gestures when he pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, smirking to himself when you moaned loudly, your head rolling back on your neck into the plush pillows below you. Taron took the opportunity to suction a butterfly-frenzied kiss to the base of your throat, drawing yet another moan from your swollen lips.

“Gonna let me taste you?” He asked gently, pulling his lips away from you enough that he could make eye contact with you properly, his eyelashes fluttering against his eyebrow bone.“Sorry, can I? Can I taste you? Please?

“God yes,” you moan, nodding furiously

You didn’t get to say anything else was his tongue swirled around your nipple. Never before had anyone made you feel so good without actually touching you properly. Taron was skilled, knowing exactly what to do to get you writhing under him. Especially when he kissed his way down your body until his nose nudged your mound and his lips ghosted your folds. As if you reassure you, he grabbed your right hand and held it tightly in his next to your hip, looking up at you and winking softly

Spreading you open, you could feel his breath on your heat right before he flattened his tongue over you completely, your back arching away from the mattress with the sheets sticking to your back. With your eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t see how his own eyes had fallen closed at finally being able to taste you. 

He lapped at your juices, with a precise skill that you’d never known before. His tongue never focussed on one spot for too long, switching from flicking at your clit to teasing your entrance to pressing his tongue flat over your entire core. Letting go of the hand that he’d laced with his he trailed his fingers down your side until he could hold your folds open, giving him the ability to lap at your juices and tease your entrance with the middle finger of his other hand. 

Your walls clenched around him when he pushed in slowly, feeling every bump of you before he pulled out and pushed back in again. He smirked against you when he heard the soft moans coming from your parted lips. To say that his fingers were tiny in comparison to his dick, pleasure rippled through you as he alternated between a fast pace and a slow pace. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as your back arched off the bed. “Feels so good.” 

Long gone were your nerves and fears. As you lay on the bed completely at Taron’s mercy, it felt like you’d been having sex with him for years. He seemed to know your body better than you knew your body and he was definitely using that to his advantage. Your knuckles were turning white with how tightly you’d started to grip the sheets by your hips but you couldn’t let go. There was far too much pleasure roaring through you for you to stop. 

Taron continued to lap at your heat, drinking your juices as though they were a cold cocktail on a hot day by the pool. The sounds coming from the bottom of the bed were near erotic as your arousal coated the entire bottom half of his face, dripping down onto the bed below you but they were drowned out by the sound of your moans as your breath caught in your throat until you were practically screaming out in pleasure. 

And when he added a second finger to the mix, curling them both forward so that he could press against the soft spot inside you that had your breath caught in your throat and your face turning red, you knew that you were done for. 

“Yeah?” He mumbled into your core, knowing full well that the vibrations from his voice would ripple through you. “Gonna cum for me baby” 

The fire that roared in the pit of your stomach started to throw out tiny sparks but it wasn’t enough. You were almost too turned on and feeling too much pleasure. “Can’t, Taron. It’s not-not happening” 

“Come on,” he said, “you can do it. I know you can do it. Wanna feel you release all over me.” 

And as if your body had been waiting for Taron to tell you how much he wanted you to cum, you suddenly felt it, rippling through your body until every single one of your nerves were on fire. Your body twitched as your orgasm washed through you, Taron’s tongue still working over your heat as his fingers massaged your walls, coaxing every last bit of it out of you. 

“That’s it,” he smiled. “Good girl, I knew you had it in you.” 

He didn’t stop licking into you or massaging your walls until you physically pushed him away by the head, far too sensitive to feel anything else. Your chest heaved as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and scooted back up the bed to kiss your cheek. 

****** 

“Thank you,” you whispered as you snuggled into his naked body after getting back from having a wee and Taron wrapped the duvet around our body as you’d grown a little chilly. “For you know...making sure that I came.” 

He chuckled at first and your head bobbed with each expansion of his stoman. But then he saw that you were being serious and his whole demeanour shifted. Embracing the double chin and tilting his head down to look at you as good as he could, he whispered, “What do you mean?” 

You giggled lightly and lifted your index finger to poke at the stubbly chin he’d created and he smiled back to you, widening his mouth to playfully try to bite your finger. “You’re actually ridiculous. But being serious. No one else that I’ve ever been with this way has ever cared enough to make sure that I’m thoroughly satisfied and that I’ve cum. So thank you.” 

Taron didn’t quite know how to feel about your admission. Part of him felt angry that the men you’d been with hadn’t cared enough about her pleasure. But he also felt bad that even when you’d been in a relationship you hadn’t had the care shown that you deserved. 

“Fuck all of those arseholes,” he mumbled against your forehead, pouting his lips out into a butterfly kiss as he held you tighter to his body. You hummed into him, partly in agreement and partly in pure bliss. “You’ve got me now and I’ll always make sure that you cum. Or at least I’ll do everything in my power to make you cum.” 

“Thank you,” you giggled, twirling some of his chest hair with your finger. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

Taron shrugged and you didn’t have to look up at him to know that he had a cocky grin on his face. “Wait though. When you say no one...does that include Henry?” You turned your nose up at the mention of your ex, who just so happened to be one of guys in your high school friendship group. After your awful breakup (he’d been fucking his secretary at work like a true cliché), he distanced himself from the group and very few of you spoke to him again. You nodded and he scoffed a laugh. “I always knew that he gave off little dick energy.” 

“Little is an understatement,” you said without skipping a beat. “He didn’t even know what to do with it. I literally lay there in bed bored shitless while he asked if it felt good. I can assure you, it never felt good.” 

“So he was a bigger dick than his actual dick?” 

“You can say that again.” 

“And you put up with that for three and a half years?” Taron asked, completely baffled. “Actually no, don't answer that. I want to know why we’re here talking about Henry James’ dick…” 

You chuckled at him and curled further into him so that you could kiss his chest, “You were the one who brought him up. And I would much rather talk about your dick anyway. How much better it is than anyone else’s.” 

“You are a total menace,” he mumbled, shifting awkwardly where he lay which had you rolling onto your back cackling. “Oh stop it! You’re the one that’s bloody talking about how good my dick is. He’s just happy to stand to attention, is all.” 

“Well,” you started, resting your chin on the hand that sat on his chest so that you could look at him easily, “you’ve unlocked a side to me that you’ve never seen before. However, I think that you should put that tongue of yours to good use and kiss me. You know, rather than talking about my ex’s tiny dick.” 

You watched as the corners of his lips turned upwards into a cheeky grin before he was scooting you up the bed by the waist so that he could press his lips to yours, slipping his tongue in easily which had you giggling. He held you tightly as you sighed into him wishing that you hadn’t been a wimp and not kissed him all those years ago.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: alcohol consumption, explicit language, consumption of non-vegan foods, smut.

You were woken up by the sun streaming through the gap in the curtains. Apparently Taron knew how to close them just as well as you did. Though from what you could see through the slit where light was cascading into the room, the sky was already an indescribable blue colour without any clouds scattered across it breaking it up. A pure sheet of blue. 

A breath of happiness left you as you took in the beautiful outside while thinking back to the night before. If there was any possible way for you to bottle how you felt in that moment; giddy and relaxed and so stupidly happy all at the same time, you would. You would also gladly take the fear of the unknown that was also evident within you. 

As you turned over in the bed, you yawned loudly and became extremely worried that it might have woken Taron up. But he wasn’t in the bed like you’d assumed he would be. The duvet was still folded over from where he’d tossed it away from his body and the sheets themselves were cold so the chance that he’d only jumped out of bed to nip to the toilet was low. 

Anxiety creeped in before you could even think about any other rational reasons as to why Taron wasn’t in the bed with you. It spread throughout your entire body until you were nothing but a mass of anxiousness wondering why you’d woken up alone. Maybe Taron had regretted having sex with you and slinked off in the middle of the night to sleep on the sofa instead. Maybe he’d not meant what he said that he really did just want to get his dick wet and that be it. Maybe he didn’t think you were good enough for him. 

It was hard to control your breathing and you felt a panic attack approaching but as soon as you started to count down from 100, everything evened out again. But there were still millions of different thoughts and feelings running through your body. Not to mention the fact that for some reason completely unbeknownst to you, there was a pain building in your head just behind your eyes that made I’d difficult to keep them open. 

Part of you wondered if it was the alcohol you’d consumed the night before but then, for a split second, the rational part of your brain kicked in and you realised that it was probably something to do with the anxiety you had. You let your eyes fall closed and you took three deep breaths. Of course, you knew that it wouldn’t get rid of the pain or the anxiety rippling through you but it helped you to focus on something else for a minute. 

You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the room again before you sat up and let your hands fall to your lap. The duvet fell from your chest and the cool air of the room had you shivering lightly. It might have looked warm outside but there was still a chill to the bedroom. And then you remembered that Taron pushed the window open before you went to sleep to let a breeze in. 

Looking at the floor by the bed, you saw your t-shirt and your underwear so when you finally gave in and decided that to try and find Taron was better than to wait for him where there was the chance that he wasn’t going to come back to the bedroom, you shoved the duvet away from your body and moved to grab them. 

It wasn’t cold enough to need more than that to keep you warm so you didn’t bother putting your leggings back on. And the thought of wearing them made you grimace. When you’d pulled your t-shirt and pulled it over your body, you made the bed quickly. But as you got to Taron’s side, you saw his t-shirt on the floor and without thinking, you were peeling yours back off your body and slipping his on instead.

Taron flooded your senses as you lifted the neckline up to your nose to smell. Your eyelids fluttered closed and a fraction of the anxiety still in your body dissipated. Until the anxious feelings made themselves known again and you debated switching your top out once more, just in case. 

You shook your head, refusing to succumb to your anxious thoughts, which for you was a massive achievement and you felt weirdly proud of yourself. The bedroom door had been left open a little bit whenever Taron left the room so you were able to pull it open easily once you’d trudged over to it. 

As you stepped out into the hallway, you weren’t quite sure how you hadn’t heard Taron in the kitchen when you were in the bedroom. Or even the sound of Fleetwood Mac as he did whatever he was doing. When you got to the kitchen, you leaned against the doorway and watched him as he pottered around the room. 

His bare back was all that you could see as you looked into the room before you. Oh and the pan that was sizzling on the stove, the toaster that was clearly housing bread, and two champagne flutes on the worktop near him next to a carton of orange juice and a bottle of prosecco. 

“What’s all this?” You asked through a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh Jesus, fuck,” he breathed, turning to you with his chest rising rapidly and his hand over his heart. “Way to scare the living daylights out of me,” he chuckled breathlessly. 

You tried to stifle your laughter as he turned to check on the pan quickly, most of his body still facing you. “I’m sorry,” you giggled. “But seriously, what’s all of this?” 

“This,” he said as he motioned to everything that was going on around the kitchen, “was supposed to be a surprise. I was going to put it all on a big tray and bring it back to the bedroom and have breakfast in bed but here you are, ruining the surprise.” Despite his serious words, there was still a hint of a shy smile creeping onto his cheeks. 

“Taron,” you breathed in absolute awe, pushing yourself away from the door frame where you walked over to him and grabbed his hands in yours tightly. “I’m so sorry that I ruined the surprise. But you didn’t have to do all of this. I’d have been happy eating leftover Chinese food on the sofa being a bit gross.” 

He looked at you with his doe-like eyes as he licked his lips and lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. There was a slight tint of pink highlighting his cheeks and you knew that if you were to lift your hand that little bit to touch them with the backs of your fingers, they would be insanely warm. And he couldn’t deny the blush anyway, not even the tiniest bit. 

“I just wanted to show you that I don’t want what we had last night to be a one night thing. There is no way on this earth that I could walk away. I do not regret a single thing that happened between us.”

You took a deep breath as the majority of your anxiety washed away completely. Hearing him admit that he meant every single word he said the night before and that he didn’t regret anything that happened between the two of you was all that you’d needed to hear. He pulled you in for an embrace and you breathed him in fully.

His hands held you against his front tightly all while they rubbed up and down your back loving. You were already completely immersed in him with the tee that covered your body but to have him holding onto you without needing to say a single word amplified every feeling that ran through you. The tips of your fingers burned as they brushed against the warm skin of his back, your heart rate increased when you felt his thumping against your chest, and your forehead ignited when he pressed a soft kiss to it. 

“I don’t regret a single second of it,” he repeated, almost as if he was telling himself rather than you. The way he spoke wasn’t like he was trying to make himself believe what he was saying and that he did regret it a little. It was more like he couldn’t believe that he didn’t regret the night before. You’d been best friends for so long and the night you spent together could have ruined it all. “Not a single thing.” 

“I don’t regret anything either,” you whispered into his chest as you held onto him tighter than he was holding you. It was like there was a silent competition to see who could hug the other tighter. As he held onto you and the words he spoke washed over your body, the tension that had built deep within your shoulders gave way and let you relax into him fully. “Got kinda scared that you had when I woke up alone though.” 

Taron pulled away from your embrace at your admission, holding onto your shoulders at arms length so he could bend down to look you in the eye. As soon as his eyes met yours you saw it. The pain that had taken up residency in his irises. It was a pain that your words had put there. His head tilted to the right as he opened his mouth to say something but then he closed it again, choosing not to say whatever was on his mind. 

“I...you really thought that I regretted it?” He asked, his voice full of sorrow, as he deflated right in front of you. The bubbliness he’d had when you first got into the kitchen had gone completely. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged honestly. “I woke up and you weren’t in the bed and the sheets were cold so I knew that you’d been gone a while. I just didn’t know how long you’d been gone and if you’d decided that you didn’t want to see me when you woke up.” 

Taron sighed to himself before dragging you back to his body where he tried to hide the fact that his eyes were getting wet. He knew that he should have waited with you or left a note or something to let you now that he wouldn’t be long. But in his mad rush to cook before you woke up, he’d forgotten. 

“I was out here making breakfast for us,” he mumbled into your neck once he’d nuzzled himself into it, breathing you in as though you were the only oxygen in the world. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I should’ve been there. I wanted to be there.” 

“It’s okay,” you chuckled lightly, squeezing him one last time before pulling away so that you could peer at the food that he was cooking. 

The toaster popped as your eyes landed on it and you brushed your shoulder cockily as if you’d been the one to summon it to pop up with the cooked toast. Taron laughed at you before pulling the rounded slices out of it and onto the metal trays that were ready to go into the hot oven. On the stop was a pan of something that you couldn’t quite see though it smelt absolutely perfect, whatever it was. 

The more you breathed the smell in, the more it reminded you of something. Like an old memory that you’d kept stored in the back of your mind for a rainy day. A rainy day that happened to not be so rainy after all. Those kinds of memories were your favourite; the ones where you weren’t quite sure whether that’s what you were thinking of or not. Until it hit you all at once and you were transported back to the happiest days of your life. 

Whatever cooked on the stove reminded you of something. And it was there, screaming at you from your mind. Yelling at you and begging you to remember the thing that you were so, so close to remembering. You were well aware that it was going to hit you at any moment and that you would kick yourself for not remembering it sooner. And when it did hit you, you wanted to break down and blubber. 

The smell took you straight back to the early 2000s when you would have sleepovers at Taron’s grandma’s house on a Saturday night where she would let you stay up later than normal. She would make popcorn and get all the blankets out into the living room where you would all cuddle together and watch movies before she finally gave in and suggested that you all go to bed. 

But before you went to sleep, she would sit at the end of one of the beds and tell you stories about her life and the adventures she got up to. The older you got, the less make believe she would add to them but the stories never got any less interesting. And not once did she ever leave the room without kissing you both on the forehead and telling you that she loved you before she trotted out of the room and flicked the light off on the way out. 

You were taken back to waking up to the following morning, excited to go downstairs and see what feast she had prepared for you to enjoy together. And whatever it was that she’d cooked, there was always far too much for just the three of you but each time you would try to finish it all. You would often spend far too long sitting at the table eating and gossiping and laughing with her which resulted in only having a short while to get ready for church. And on the walk to church, she would hold your hands tightly and continue to tell the story she hadn’t finished the night before. 

You were taken back to some of the happiest times in your life. Taron’s grandma was like your own grandma and she never once treated you as anything but her own granddaughter. Until Rosie and Mari came along, you were her only granddaughter and she loved you with her whole heart. You missed her far more than you ever thought possible and you would give anything to see her one last time, tell her that you love her one last time, and hug her one last time. 

“Welsh rarebit,” you mumbled almost incoherently, unable to believe it. Taron turned to you with a huge grin. “I haven’t had that since...well since our last sleepover with her.” 

“It’s been far too long,” Taron said, stirring the cheese in the pan while he kept the same smile on his face. 

Many people have their own way of making Welsh rarebit but your grandma’s was always completely different. She melted the cheese in a pan until it was thick and gloopy before adding all of the spices that she physically could until it no longer resembled a cheese colour. And more often than not, she would pair it with some avocado on the side and some chilli jam to spice things up a little bit more. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of eating your favourite Sunday morning breakfast for the first time in years. “How are we having it?” 

“The same way she used to make it,” he smiled, placing the spatula back on the worktop so that he could hold you against him again. “There’s even some chilli jam that mum made in the cupboard and I made sure to buy avocados the other day.” 

“The chilli jam. Is it-” 

“The one she used to make? Mum used her recipe so yes, yes it is. Now, you can either take your pretty arse back to bed and wait for me to bring the food in where you can act surprised and like you didn’t know what I was making or that I was making anything at all, or you can sit your pretty arse down and shush so I can cook without burning anything.” 

His tone was playful as he spoke and every time he mentioned your bum, he would tap it with his hand. You’d giggle each time and hold him that tiny little bit tighter before letting go and hopping onto the counter. It was cold under your thighs and a sheet of goosebumps fell over you at the contrast in temperature. 

“Serves you right for coming out here in just your underwear and a t-shirt,” Taron joked, pulling the front of the top you wore away from your skin before letting it fall back into my place. “My t-shirt at that!” 

“It’s comfortable!” You argued with a smile, snuggling into it more as he blinked at you daintily, moving back to stir the things in the pan. “Plus it smells like you and if you had regretted last night, at least I would have something to wear today that reminded me of you.” 

Taron’s shoulders visibly tensed as he turned the hob off and poured the melted cheese onto the toast. He quickly sprinkled some extra cheese onto them before putting them in the oven and turning to face you as he wiped his hands down his bottoms. 

“I can’t believe that you would ever think I’d regret that,” he uttered as he moved to stand between your legs. 

Your hands grabbed his cheeks immediately and you tilted his head up a couple of inches so that he was looking directly at you. His eyes were gentle as he watched you, his tongue poking out between his lips to wet them as he took a shaky breath. Your thighs were warm where he held onto them, his fingers squeezing your flesh as he waited for you to say something. 

“I don’t know why I thought that,” you admitted. “You weren’t in bed and my anxiety started playing up and I just...I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, sweeping his arms around your waist to pull you close to him so that he could capture your lips in a kiss. “How are you feeling today?” 

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and you covered them with your hands as he tilted his head to look at you fully. 

“I’m a little sore,” you whispered, averting your eyes away from Taron’s but letting them flicker to his every couple of seconds to see how he was reacting. 

His eyebrows were raised and he was trying to hold back his smirk. Your lips broke out in a smile and soon enough you were giggling as he held onto you. When your head fell onto his shoulder and into his neck, you could feel-and hear- him start to laugh with you. His hands tightened around your waist as you laughed together. Neither of you knew why you were laughing so hard--to the point where your bellies hurt--but you were. 

Before you pulled away from the warmth of his neck, you peppered kisses to his skin to which he giggled and lifted his shoulder as though that was going to stop it from tickling him. When you were able to look him in the eye again, your face dropped to be completely serious and thus, so did his own. 

“But,” you started, cupping his cheeks and wrapping your feet around the backs of his thighs to keep him pressed to you, “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Right here in your arms.”

Taron opened his mouth to say something but closed it again soon after. You could clearly see him backtrack his thoughts as though he thought it was a bad idea to tell you what he wanted to tell you. Instead, he leaned forward to press his lips to yours in a gentle, loving kiss that had you been standing on the ground would have knocked you off your feet. 

With his lips moulded so perfectly with yours, you let your hands slip down to his neck where you were able to pull him impossibly close. He was warm and inviting as he slipped his tongue into your mouth effortlessly, laughing into you when you gasped lightly. His hands slid from your thighs up to your bum where he wiggled them under you so that he could cup it properly. As he kissed you, he pulled you away from the worktop completely, not expecting the marble under your thighs to screech as he pulled you. 

“I’m sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he rushed as you rubbed the backs of your legs with your eyes squeezed shut trying to ease the burning sensation you felt. “Are you okay?” 

“I will be. But bloody hell, you could have lifted me,” you laughed as you let your eyes open again. 

Taron looked mortified, his face dropped in pure horror as he watched you rub your legs. Even when you laughed he didn’t let his face move an inch. He stared at you as you took a step towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your pants exposed to the room as the top lifted. 

He didn’t hold onto you again until you pressed your lips to his. Then he relaxed a little and wrapped his arms around your middle as he swayed you. You were unable to fathom the situation when Songbird started to play and Taron looked at you with the softest smile as he started to sway you. 

“For you, there’ll be no more crying,” he sang into your ear, dancing you around the room while he waited for the food to be cooked. “For you, the sun will be shining.” 

You sighed into him, letting your feet follow him around the room as he sang to you. His voice had been carved by angels, you were sure. It didn’t matter what he sang, or how he sang it, his voice carried nothing but love and passion and you weren’t sure how you’d been one of the lucky ones that got to hear it. 

The first time he’d started to sing more often, you remember staring at him in awe, completely bewildered as to how your best friend had managed to keep something as beautiful as his voice hidden for so long. As much as you loved when he sang ballads that were well known, your absolute favourite was when he sang traditional Welsh songs that echoed throughout your body as you were transcended into euphoria. 

“And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before,” he continued to sing, holding onto you tighter as he paused to take a shaky breath. 

Your own breathing was shaky as you took in the lyrics. Of course, you’d loved Taron for years but there was a new feeling now. And with the way that Taron put emphasis on both the lyrics and his arms wrapped around your middle, you knew that they resonated with him the same way they did you. 

He pulled his face away from your neck to look you in the eye, his eyes glassy as he tried to hold back the baffled tears that were forming in his eyes. You lifted your hands to his cheeks once more and ran your thumbs under his eyes to rid any stray tears before leaning forward to plant a kiss to his lips. 

It wasn’t a hungry kiss or a kiss filled with lust. It was the complete opposite. It was slow and meaningful and full of love. You didn’t know how to vocalise how you felt so you hoped that Taron would know from the way you slotted your lips with his. Him kissing you back told you everything you needed to know. 

And just like the night before, your hands became restless and you had no idea where to hold onto him as you stood in the kitchen--practically in the same place you’d kissed for the first time--showing him how you felt. He didn’t try to put your hands anywhere though. He let you feel around his body until you found somewhere that felt comfortable; one arm around his waist and one cupping his cheek. 

He held onto you tightly, pouring his emotions and his love into you as the song continued to play in the background. No longer did either of you care about the food that was cooking and no longer did either of you care if things didn’t go to plan. The feelings that you’d kept hidden for so long were no longer hidden. 

The loud beeping of the oven pulled you away from one another and away from what had been the most perfect dance of your life. The song continued to play in the background as Taron turned the oven off and pulled the tray of food out. Your mouth watered when you saw it, perfectly ready for you to dive into. 

As he stood and plated the food, you stepped behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, snuggling into his back happily. He breathed a laugh at you before dolloping some of the jam onto our plate as well as spreading out the avocado neatly because he knew that you’d want a photo of it to send to everyone.

“And I love you, I love you, I love you like never before,” you sang along with the end of the song, trying not to cry. 

When he’d finished plating the food and had poured you both a drink, he didn’t move. He let you hold onto him feeling his back expand as he breathed. But after a bit he knew that you needed to go and eat before the food got too cold. 

“Come on,” he whispered, “let’s go and eat this before it gets cold. And we’re still eating in bed.” 

****** 

“So, last night,” Taron spoke up when he’d swallowed the last of his mimosa. 

“Last night,” you repeated as you did the same with your own drink, putting it back on the tray in front of you. Between the two of you, you had demolished the rarebit, a bowl of fruit and a mimosa and you were positively stuffed. “What about it?” 

Taron shifted under the duvet, letting himself relax onto his back a little more before he pulled the duvet back up to his waist. He looked between you and the tray in front of you both, helping you push it away so that you could also get comfortable. You chose to lay on your side with your head rested on his chest and your arm around his middle. And he held you by your waist as he breathed softly. 

“We were safe and used protection, obviously. But now we kinda only have one left. And I don’t know. I guess I just feel like we should have a conversation about it? Like staying protected and stuff if we’re going to carry this on.” 

The tips of your fingers drew soft circles over his skin as you craned your neck up to look at him. He was sporting a double chin as he looked down at you and you lifted your finger to poke it quickly before going back to your invisible artwork. Taron laughed with you as you fell into a fit of giggles that were hard to control. 

“I genuinely do trust that you’re clean and I wouldn’t mind not having to use a condom but since being here, I can’t get my pill. And whereas before it was perfectly fine that I couldn’t take it because I wasn’t having sex, now...it’s kind of an issue.” 

Taron nodded understandably, happy that you were so comfortable talking to him about such a subject. Not there was anything to be ashamed about in the conversation. He appreciated you being open with him and telling him what was going on so that he could his part. 

“Okay,” he said slowly, wondering if you were going to continue talking. 

“I called the chemist a couple of days ago and asked if there was any way of them being able to get me more and they said that I’d have to call my doctor’s surgery in London. Which isn’t an issue other than the fact that my doctor sucks at picking up the phone.” 

“We can at least try, yeah? If that’s what you want to do anyway,” he added quickly, kissing your forehead gently. “Even if, sorry, when you’ve got more, we can still use condoms if that’s how you’re most comfortable.” 

“Why are you so sweet?” you asked him through a smile, pulling him into you tightly as you let your eyelids fall closed. He was warm under your touch and so inviting. The arm that wasn’t holding your waist was propped behind his head until it moved so that he could pull you over his body to be laying on top of him. “Don’t knock the tray.” 

“Oh shit yeah,” he laughed, popping you back where you’d been previously so that he could move the tray onto the floor. “All better.” 

You rolled onto him when he was comfortable again, the duvet having fallen to your waist as you kissed his lips once, twice, three times. Short pecks that made him want more. He leaned his head forward into you whenever you started to pull away and he would pout when you refused to kiss him again. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t plan it,” you answered honestly, resting your forearms over his chest so that you could see him properly. “If and when I get more, we can just see what happens. For all we know, we might decide that we’re better as friends. Not that I want that to be the case or anything but-” 

“We won’t plan. I really hope we don’t decide that we’re better as friends. I quite like the thought of calling you my girlfriend one day.” 

Your eyes widened quickly at the use of the g-word and your mouth ran dry. In all the chaos of the night before and how quickly everything happened, you hadn’t thought about the fact that actually, you weren’t just friends anymore. The love that you shared was deeper than it had been before, it was more meaningful—if that was even possible. 

“Girlfriend?” You asked softly, watching Taron’s face contort as he attempted to figure out how you felt. “I hadn’t even thought of that.” 

“Do you not want to be my girlfriend?” he queried. “I’m sorry I keep assuming things and it’s unfair on you for me to do that and-”

He was cut off when you planted a chaste kiss to his lips, holding his cheeks in place as you poured your soul into him. You were breathless when you pulled away, chest thumping along with Taron’s as you lay and watch one another. 

“I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. You do realise that us being in a relationship would be the same as us being best friends except the fact that we’d get to kiss and have sex, right?” 

“Exactly,” he joked, leaning forward for another kiss. “Would’ve been weird if I’d have done that years ago, wouldn’t it?” 

“It might have shocked me a tad but after last night you know that I would have jumped.” 

Taron laughed at you playfully, tightening his grip around your waist. “I wish I’d have done it sooner.” 

You laughed together before falling into a comfortable silence. Though it didn’t stay silent for long as Taron’s hands started to roam your body. From your shoulders all the way to your thighs, round your sides and back up again. You moaned into his mouth softly as he started to plant feather-like kisses to your lips. 

“I think you’d better go get that last condom,” you chuckled. 

He practically threw you backwards onto the bed so that he could jump up and run to the drawer for the last condom. When he turned back around, he saw how manically you were laughing and he physically couldn’t not join in. Your hands slapped your legs as you struggled to breathe and you rolled around on the bed uncontrollably. 

“Okay, okay, I know I’m funny but damn.” 

“Gorgeous,” you choked out around laughs, “I’ve never seen anybody move that quickly at the mention of a condom.” 

Taron shrugged as he moved to lay over the top of you, one hand holding him up and the other sliding up the side of your body under the top you wore so that he could cup your breast. He’d placed the condom on the bedside table ready for when you needed it. 

“You mentioned a condom, which means that we’re going to have sex and how could I ever want to go get it slowly? You’re fucking perfect and I don’t understand how I got lucky enough to have you like this.” 

“Never want anyone else,” you breathed as he kissed down your neck, grazing his teeth over your skin before sucking it lightly. He wanted to refrain from marking you but you felt so good under him that he thought that one bruise wouldn’t hurt. “Gonna get you back for that.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” he chuckled into your skin, squeezing your boob all while grinding into your hips. You could feel his length hardening and it baffled you as to how you could have that effect on him so quickly. “Is it bad that I really don’t want to attempt to take that top off of your body? I’m so desperate for you.” 

Hearing him admit how much he wanted you had your knees weak and you were insanely glad that you were laying down. Your hands started to work his joggers down his legs, silently telling him that you didn’t care. You were desperate too. He helped you push them down until they were at his knees. 

His finger drew light circles over your clothed clit but it was enough to send waves of pleasure through you. “Fuckibg hell,” you breathed as he continued to draw into you, smirking at the way your back arched off the bed below you. 

******

“It’s like we were made for each other,” he mumbled into your ear as he pressed into you in one quick motion. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you held onto his biceps and wrapped your legs around him so that you could press your heels into the curve of his bum. “Absolutely made me one another.” 

His thrusts were slow to start but nowhere near as slow as they had been the night before. He knew how you reacted to him and what angles had you moaning loudly and clenching around him. Even he wasn’t quite sure how you’d gotten to know one another’s bodies for quickly but he wasn’t complaining. He loved making you feel good just as much you loved making him feel good. 

When his hips picked up their pace and the headboard started to hit the wall with each thrust into you, your moans got louder and your hands gripped him tighter. Your entire body was on fire as he leaned down to kiss you. Every part of him was enveloping you wholly. His lips on yours, his scent filling your nostrils, and his length inside you and connecting you in the most intimate way. 

As soon as he could feel himself growing close to his release, he trailed one hand down your body until he could circle your clit at the same pace that his hips pressed into you. The new feeling on top of everything else was enough to have you near screaming into the room. He kissed you to try and huhs some of your whimpers but he wasn’t doing a very good job. 

In the end, he was moaning and groaning along with you which added to the volume of the room. Part of you felt bad for your neighbours having to hear you both for the second time in less than 12 hours but you also didn’t care. You felt better than you had in years and it was all thanks to Taron. 

At first, you didn’t think that you were going to reach orgasm but Taron’s thumb picked up pace and pressure alike and you could feel your legs start to shake. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your front pressed into Taron’s when your back arched off the bed. Your t-shirt was sticking to your skin with the sheen of sweat that blanketed you and you knew for a fact that you would both need a shower before heading out on your walk. 

“Taron…” you breathed, holding onto his biceps as tightly as you could as your orgasm washed over you. Ripple after ripple covered your body and you could feel your walls clench around him as he continued to thrust into you. His thrusts had gotten slower again and he leaned down to kiss you on the lips continuously. “”Fuck.” 

“Feel good?” He mumbled into your mouth. You nodded and moved to hold his cheeks so that you could kiss him properly. 

His thrusts continued until he could feel his own release approaching. When they became sloppy, you clenched around him in just the way that you knew he would like. And sure enough, it didn’t take long for him to release into the condom and his head to fall into your neck where he breathed heavily while attempting to ride out his high. 

You ran your hands over his head to relax him while peppering kisses to the skin of his shoulder. “Feel good?” 

“Fucking perfect.” 

******

There had been many times during your friendship with Taron that you’d noticed his beauty. But that day, walking along the seafront with the backs of your hands brushing together with each step you took towards his mum’s house, you noticed it in a whole new light. And you couldn’t hold back your smile, or the fact that you were definitely staring at him far too much to watch where you were walking. 

The sun was still high in the sky and it bounced off the high points of his face beautifully, highlighting his cheekbones and jaw. His side profile was the nicest you’d ever seen and with the golden hues from the sun cascading down on him, he looked like a real life Disney Prince. He knew that you were watching him and he tried to hide his smile but the dimple burrowing it’s way into his cheek gave him away instantly. 

“Stop staring at me,” he laughed, purposefully making his hand brush yours a little harder than before. “You’re going to fall.” 

“Fall for you,” you joked, slapping your thigh dramatically as if you were a dad laughing at his own joke while the kids all shook their heads and rolled their eyes. “I’m staring at you because you’re so bloody perfect.” 

He turned to you with a gentle smile. All he wanted to do was lean down to kiss you. But you’d made an agreement. No PDA. At least not right away. Neither of you knew what was going to come of your little thing and you didn’t want rumours to circulate the internet and then for nothing to happen. Plus, you both wanted to enjoy your relationship for what it was, in private with only the most important people knowing. 

“You need to stop talking about yourself that way,” he laughed back at you, nudging your shoulder with a wink before turning back to look in front of him. “I was thinking-” 

“Did it hurt?” You quipped back, earning yourself his middle finger in your face. “Oi, don’t be mean to me now. I’ll tell your mum.” 

“As I was saying. I was thinking that I could cook for you tonight. Seeing as though we can’t go out anywhere on a date, I could cook and we can sit at the table and pretend we’re somewhere in Italy.” 

“Italy as a first date?” You asked in awe. “If I’d have known dating you would be this good I’d have gone for it sooner.” 

Taron laughed loudly, a cackle that echoed around you despite there being nothing for it to echo from. “You’re funny. But what do you think?” 

You let your pinky finger link with his, a spark of heat rushing up your arm and to your heart as they linked. “It sounds perfect. What are you going to cook?” 

He simply tapped the side of his nose and carried on walking, chuckling at your huff as you pointed at him. But you smiled again when he grabbed your hand properly and swung it a couple of times. It felt so nice that you wondered if it would be such a big deal if people found out that you were kinda together.

Not that it would be a problem if they did. You both just liked the idea of spending time together without people online speculating the ins and outs of your relationship. You were both happy with ‘announcing’ your relationship when you were both ready. And for the time being, neither of you had any interest in going public. 

Taron had explained his side by telling you that it would be nice to go home to somebody that no one else knew about. Like it was separating his life of being in the public eye and his private life perfectly. The second a relationship was put out there was the second where his entire life was public. He’d told you over and over that it wasn’t anything to do with the fact that it was you. It was just that he’d like to be selfish with you for a little while longer. 

And of course, you understood. You didn’t really fancy being the centre of his fans with people picking you apart. There’d been enough of that when people knew that you were friends. Especially when he did get into relationships and they were public. You were constantly asked how it felt to know that he was replacing you and other things that you’d rather forget. 

But right then, walking down the street with his fingers laced with yours, his palm flat against yours and his lips turned into a smile, neither of you cared what would happen. People knowing something was going on wasn’t going to affect the way that either of you felt towards one another. Not in the slightest. 

“You’ll like it though, I promise,” he said finally as you turned onto Tina’s street and up towards her house. 

You didn’t have to tell Tina. And truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d thought you would have to. As soon as she walked out of the house and looked at the two of you, she knew. And when her eyes fell to your hands that were entwined in front of you where no one else would be able to see, her eyes widened and she started to dance on the spot. 

“Finally!” She exclaimed, a smile taking up her entire face as she got excited. “I’ve been waiting for this since you were 13. You’re now bloody 30!”


End file.
